30 Day OTP Challenge: MerlinxArthur
by firefly.1212
Summary: All chapters contain slash. Most chapters rated K plus, but individual ratings are on each chapter.
1. Holding Hands

**Day 1: Holding Hands**

**Rating: K+**

**A/N: **I decided to do this challenge as a way to get myself more motivated to write and to help me get more ideas for future stories, and because I like playing with these two. I'm looking forward to finding out how this goes, given my current lack of motivation. I'll try my hardest not to let it be an epic fail, but we'll see.

* * *

Merlin took a deep breath before knocking on his master's door. For the past few days Arthur had been in an unpredictable mood and likely to throw things at Merlin for no particular reason. This could be considered normal, but Merlin could sense there was something wrong - and he had a good idea of what it might be.

"Come in."

Merlin poked his head round the door. "I brought you some food," he announced. "You missed dinner so I thought you might be hungry."

Arthur was sitting at his desk, his head bent over a pile of parchment. His golden hair glowed softly by the light of the candles. He murmured his thanks but didn't look up.

The dark-haired warlock crept into the room, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible. He set the tray down on the king's dining table and proceeded to pour him a glass of wine. "Come on Arthur, you've barely eaten in days. Gwen's worried about you."

When Arthur looked up at him, the weariness in his face made Merlin's stomach clench. His eyes were dull and shadowed with purple bruises. His hair hung limp and his skin was greyish and taut. He looked more like a ghost than a king.

"You don't understand," he murmured.

"Then help me to," Merlin said. It hurt to see his friend like this – a dead man walking – but if Arthur wouldn't talk to him what could he do? "Please, at least eat something before you waste away."

Arthur didn't move. He stared blankly down at the documents before him as if they were written in a foreign language.

"Don't make me fetch Gaius," Merlin said warningly.

The corner of Arthur's mouth twitched. A good sign. He looked at Merlin for a long time before slowly getting to his feet. He moved like a man twice his age; Merlin held his arm to support him as he made his way over to the table. He sat with his master as Arthur picked at the meat and fruit on the tray. He pushed it away after he'd eaten about half of the spread and allowed Merlin to place a goblet of wine in his hand. He put it down still half-full and made to get up, to go back to his work. Merlin caught his shoulders and pushed him back down.

"No. You're going to end up killing yourself if you keep going like this. Just sit here for a while and then I'll help you prepare for bed."

Arthur made a small noise of protest, but his body seemed to warm to the idea of rest. He slumped in his chair and let his head loll forward. He was so beaten and broken that Merlin had to fight back the urge to gather the pieces of his friend into his arms. Instead he reached across the table and, with slight hesitation, laid his hand lightly on top of Arthur's. The other man started a little at the contact, his blue eyes lifting to Merlin's. A curious light shone beneath their glassy surface. Merlin curled his slender fingers around Arthur's rough, calloused ones, enjoying the feeling of warm skin against his. He expected Arthur would start shouting at any moment, or throw the wine jug at his head. He would never hear the end of it from Gaius, either, but he just couldn't bring himself to care.

With a soft sigh, Arthur turned his hand over and slid his fingers between Merlin's. Their hands fit each other perfectly. Merlin squeezed Arthur's hand and tried to pour everything into the simple touch that he hadn't been able to say out loud: _I'm here Arthur. I'll always be here and I'll help you through anything. One day you will be the greatest king this land has ever known. I believe in you. _

He noticed some colour had returned to Arthur's cheeks; they were now stained with a faint rosy tinge. "Arthur, you're blushing."

"I am not."

"You definitely are."

"I am the king, _Mer_lin. I do not _blush_."

Merlin grinned. "Glad to see you're returning to your usual prattish self."

"One more word out of you and I'll have you put in the stocks," Arthur threatened, although a gentle smile had graced his lips. "Same goes for if you tell anyone about this." He lifted their joined hands to emphasise his point.

"Not a word, sire," Merlin promised.


	2. Cuddling Somewhere

**Day 2: Cuddling Somewhere**

**Rating: K+**

* * *

Merlin was in a foul mood. He had beseeched Arthur countless times that morning that frost on the ground was a sign it was far too cold to venture out into the wilderness on a hunting trip, but the King had, as usual, merely laughed at him, and once threw a saddlebag at Merlin's head for good measure. He had remained oblivious to Merlin's brooding silence for the duration of their expedition, and didn't seem to feel an ounce of guilt about embedding arrows in the hides of innocent animals. Merlin had ventured to inform Arthur of this around noon – they had been going at least three hours by then – but Arthur had only sighed and told him to "Stop being such a _girl_, Merlin." This had subsequently resulted in Merlin's pout growing and he had to grit his teeth against an enchantment that would transform Arthur's hair into golden pigtails and exchange his tunic for a nice frilly dress – pink, of course. Even if he couldn't incant the spell, the image in his mind made him feel rather more cheerful for a while.

As night drew in Arthur was forced to call it a day, for even the King of Camelot couldn't shoot a boar in the dark, no matter how skilled he thought himself to be. By then Merlin's mood was positively black; his fingers and toes were numb, his behind was sore and he was beginning to catch a cold. He made sure to sniffle loudly in Arthur's direction before stomping off to gather wood for the fire.

He made dinner in silence, sending the occasional glare at Arthur across the fire. The king took no notice; he was staring off into the distance, resting his chin on his laced fingers. He studiously took no notice of Merlin except to take the offered bowl of rabbit stew from him and toss it back when he had finished. The silence continued until Arthur had settled himself on his bedroll, shuffling as close to the fire as possible to ward off the autumn chill. Merlin stayed where he was, shivering and snuffling miserably.

"Are you cold?" Arthur asked looking at Merlin directly for what was probably the first time that day.

Merlin shook his head even as his shoulders vibrated violently.

"You're not still sulking are you?"

"'M not sulking."

"Don't lie to me Merlin."

"You know I hate hunting, Arthur," grumbled the warlock. "Why couldn't you bring the knights instead? They would have had a lot more fun, not to mention been better company."

Arthur looked taken aback. His blue eyes were wide, giving him the appearance of a child that didn't understand why he was being scolded. "Because I need my manservant, and I _wanted_ you to come."

Merlin kept his eyes on the ground but felt a large portion of his annoyance peter out like a dying flame. He sniffed again, knowing Arthur would take that as forgiveness, and pulled his blanket tighter around his shoulders.

A few moments passed and he heard Arthur get up. He resisted the urge to follow his king with his eyes, and so was mildly startled when Arthur took a seat beside him. He wrapped a pelt – the fur pelt he had brought to sleep under – around Merlin's shivering frame before pulling his surprised manservant sideways until he was leaning against Arthur's chest. Merlin made a muffled noise but didn't try to move away.

"Better?"

Merlin gave a non-committal grunt that could have meant anything. He buried his nose in the crook of Arthur's armpit; it smelled very _Arthur_ in there. Arthur's arms held him firmly against his warm body, and as Merlin's arms snaked around his waist a voice at the back of his head thought it necessary to point out that he and Arthur – King of Camelot and world's biggest prat – were _cuddling_. Merlin shuddered and shoved the thought away; the moment was too fragile for such things. All Merlin knew was that he was warm and Arthur's steady breathing was making him drowsy. His nose had stopped running for the moment, and that allowed him to snuggle into Arthur's heat and drift off into a calm, quiet sleep.


	3. Watching A Movie

**Day 3: Watching a Movie**

**Rating: K+**

**ModernAU**

**A/N: **I couldn't think of a way to explain a TV in medieval Britain.

* * *

The gentle sound of fingers tapping keys and the occasional rustle of a turning page were the only sounds that had reached Merlin's ears for the past two hours. He lay curled up on the threadbare sofa in the tiny living room of their apartment, one arm curled under his head and the other stretched out in front of him holding a book. His flatmate – and boyfriend – Arthur was busy working on a paper that he should have started weeks ago. Merlin was partly – alright, mostly – responsible for the repeated distractions, and while he wanted his boyfriend to have the best start to his career possible, there was just something far too tempting about the way Arthur worried his bottom lip with his teeth as he worked. Merlin had given up trying to read and instead occupied himself with watching. He could look even if he couldn't touch.

He wore his purple university hoodie and his favourite faded jeans. His feet were bare, long and slender like his hands, and his toes curled and uncurled absently beneath his chair. Arthur's body was all curved lines and muscle definition; as he tilted his head to the side to frown at a passage in his textbook the tendons in his neck stood out enough to make Merlin's mouth water. His golden fringe cascaded over quick, intelligent blue eyes that darted back and forth between the words on the page and the ones on the screen. Even with the distance between them, Merlin nose picked up the scent of hours-old cologne, coffee and masculinity wafting from Arthur's skin. It was maddening.

Across the room, the corner of Arthur's mouth tugged up into Merlin's favourite lopsided smile. "Quiet your thoughts, Merlin. I'm working."

Merlin huffed. "My thoughts can do anything they damn well please, Arthur Pendragon. They don't answer to you."

Arthur chuckled. "My, someone's grumpy."

"I prefer the term 'sexually frustrated'."

"There's nothing I can do about that, I'm afraid. I'm already behind on my work, as you know." He lifted his head to throw a smirk in Merlin's direction, causing the dark-haired boy to groan.

"I don't understand why you have to sit on the other side of the room, though," he pouted.

"Because, _Mer_lin, if I sit anywhere closer to you you'll find a way to distract me. See, you're doing it now."

"But I'm _bored_," the other whined. "Can't we at least watch a movie? I'll let you do your work if you come and sit with me." He pushed himself upright and patted the space next to him, smiling in what he hoped was an endearing way.

Arthur rolled his eyes as though dealing with a stubborn child. "Promise not to distract me?"

Merlin grinned wickedly. "I won't _try_ to distract you."

The suggestive tone in his voice earned him a smack with a cushion. It was annoying how well Arthur could throw. Still the blonde seemed to have given up arguing with him; he gathered his laptop, books and writing utensils into his arms and shuffled awkwardly across the carpet to Merlin's sofa. Merlin scooted over to make room, offering Arthur his most winning smile before getting up to fetch a DVD. When Arthur saw which one he'd chosen he dropped his head against the back of the sofa with an audible _thunk_.

"'Titanic', really?"

"Yep," Merlin said cheerfully, reclaiming his position beside Arthur, who wasn't even bothering to conceal his scepticism.

"You cry every time we watch it."

"Do _not._"

Arthur didn't need to continue to argue his case. By the time the movie was over he was cradling his emotional mess of a boyfriend in his lap, stroking his hair and letting Merlin's tears soak into his jeans. His laptop and textbooks had been pushed aside when the tears had first started to fall, and now Arthur would continue to not get any work done for at least another half hour whilst Merlin calmed down. He knew Merlin would distract him eventually, and whilst he _had_ considered locking his persistent boyfriend in a cupboard in order to achieve his degree, he couldn't deny that Merlin was a very welcome alternative to work.

He would never tell Merlin that, of course. It would only give him ideas.


	4. On A Date

**Day 4: On A Date**

**Rating: K+**

* * *

"Arthur, will you please tell me what's going on?"

A chuckle came from the other side of the screen where Arthur was currently undressing. "All will become clear Merlin."

Merlin glanced down at the expensive silk clothes draped across his arm. "I'm guessing you have special plans for tonight?"

"What gave you that idea? Pass me that shirt, will you?"

Merlin held up the shirt in question – cream and embroidered with gold at the collar – and hung it over the top of the screen. It disappeared a second later.

"Who's the lucky girl?"

"You'll find out soon enough." The tone of Arthur's voice told Merlin he'd failed to sound nonchalant.

He stepped out from behind the screen. Merlin raked his eyes down his body, pretending to critically scrutinise when in reality he was fighting to keep his breathing steady. There was no other way to say it: Arthur looked stunning. The clothes hugged his body in all the right places and the pale colours made his eyes impossibly blue.

"What do you think?"

"Well, you look… royal. Definitely royal. Not that you don't look royal anyway but -"

Arthur laughed. "I'm glad you approve. You're going to be spending the evening with me, after all."

"You want me to wait on you? Wouldn't you rather have some privacy…?"

Arthur looked at him with the expression he reserved for when Merlin was being unusually dense. Merlin stared back at him, wanting to make the connection but afraid he was jumping to conclusions. Instead of risking looking like a fool, he opted to keep his mouth closed and wait for Arthur's patience to run out – which didn't take long.

With an exaggerated sigh, Arthur took Merlin by the hand. "Come on, you idiot."

As he allowed himself to be tugged along, Merlin tried hard to keep his heart rate under control. He was sure he was dreaming; Arthur was dressed fit for a princess or a queen, and yet it was Merlin he was leading through the corridors (which were thankfully deserted) towards the dining hall, where who-knew-what would be waiting. It was enough to make Merlin feel lightheaded at the same time as wanting to skip with joy.

When they reached the double doors Arthur let go of Merlin's hand, stepping to the side with a sweeping bow before pushing the doors open. Everything in the room had been pushed against the walls save one table, which was covered with a crisp linen cloth. Candles burned in the braziers on the walls and lined up like soldiers down the centre of the table. Several vases of flowers had been placed anywhere there was space, and their sweet scents hung heavy and dizzying in the air.

Merlin turned to Arthur, feeling his own eyes almost popping out of his head. Arthur stood with his hands behind his back, bouncing on his toes and looking incredibly pleased with himself.

"You did all this?"

Arthur nodded. "Well, I had a little help."

"All this for me?"

"You don't think it's too much?"

Truthfully, Merlin thought the décor would have been fine without all the flowers and candles, but he gave Arthur a smile that he hoped showed his gratitude.

"No, I think it's lovely."

Arthur beamed and gestured for Merlin to take a seat. A silver platter was waiting for them; the smell coming from under the lid made Merlin's mouth water.

"You cooked?"

Arthur looked sheepishly down at the table, reaching back to play with the hair on the nape of his neck. "Er, well…"

Merlin smiled. "Stupid question."

"I would if I knew how," Arthur assured him earnestly. "If you want me to learn then I will."

Shaking his head, Merlin reached across the table and covered Arthur's hand with his own. "It doesn't matter. You still did all this." He sat back and made a face. "It would probably be best if you were kept away from the kitchen, actually. I can imagine what a disaster that would be."

"Charming."

"I do try."

It didn't take long for them to completely clear the platter of roast chicken and vegetables between them. They kept up an easy flow of conversation as the night wore on, finding it so much easier to talk to one another when they weren't being forced to keep up the roles of master and servant. Arthur found himself fascinated by the shapes Merlin's lips made as he talked; he hoped Merlin wouldn't notice he wasn't paying attention to what he was actually saying.

After a while, Merlin suddenly brought his monologue to an abrupt halt. He sat looking at Arthur, causing Arthur's skin to itch with the intensity of his gaze.

"What is it?" Arthur asked a little nervously.

"Why did you feel the need to do this?" Merlin gestured dramatically at the room. "It's not as though we're courting or anything. Aren't you worried someone will find out about this? About us?"

Arthur pretended to look affronted. "I'm shocked at your lack of faith in my ability to keep a secret."

Merlin rested his elbows on the table with a sigh. "That's not the point."

Arthur mirrored Merlin's movements; their faces were only inches apart. "Go on."

"I guess I'm asking what this means in terms of our relationship."

Arthur's hand was very warm on the side of Merlin's face; Merlin automatically turned his nose into Arthur's palm, breathing shallowly so the other wouldn't notice the effect even the simplest of touches had on him.

"I want to take care of you and make you feel wanted. I wish more than anything to be able to do this properly, but you know we can't. This is the best I can do, but if it's not enough…"

Merlin grabbed Arthur's wrist, a wave of panic washing over him. "No, it is. We'll find a way to make it work."

Arthur smiled. The slight curve of his lips seemed to soften his whole face, making him more beautiful than ever. Merlin made a mental note to try to make him smile like that more often. Arthur's fingers were rough against Merlin's skin, but his lips were soft and warm as he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Merlin's forehead.


	5. Kissing

**Day 5: Kissing**

**Rating: T**

**A/N:** I struggled a bit with this one and I don't really like the way it turned out, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway.

* * *

"Come on Arthur, it's time you went to bed," Merlin said for the fifth time.

Arthur shook his head fervently, his hair flopping every which way. "Nuh uh. You can't tell me what to do."

Why did Arthur have to behave like a child when he'd drunk too much? Merlin could handle angry Arthur, upset Arthur and deliriously happy Arthur, but he had to deal with stubborn, petulant Arthur on a daily basis anyway and there was only so much his patience could stand. He had mentally prepared himself before coming to the feast, but the hour was late and he was desperate to retreat to bed.

Merlin braced his hands on his hips. "Do I have to count to three?"

Arthur glanced around him for support and spotted Gwaine sitting to his left. "Gwaine, tell Merlin to stop being bossy," Arthur pouted.

The dark-haired knight looked Merlin up and down with a drunken grin on his face. "Maybe you should make him do something for you in return for doing what he says." He winked and turned back to Percival.

Merlin could only gape as the tips of his ears turned pink. To his horror, Arthur appeared to be considering the idea. A sly smile formed on his face and Merlin bit back a groan. This wasn't going to be pretty.

"I'll only go to bed if you promise me a goodnight kiss," Arthur announced definitively, banging his goblet down on the table for emphasis. Wine sloshed over the wood and Merlin closed his eyes.

"Fine," he said through clenched teeth, "Fine."

Gleefully, Arthur lurched to his feet. Using the back of his chair and Merlin for support, he declared his departure to the rest of the gathering and allowed Merlin to drag him towards the door.

It wasn't often that Merlin found himself having to half-carry his master through the castle at ungodly hours of the morning, and for this Merlin was grateful, because Arthur was _heavy._ His hot breath tickled Merlin's ear in the most distracting way possible, and when he felt his lips against his skin it was all Merlin could do not to squeak and flinch away.

The problem wasn't that he didn't want Arthur to touch him. Quite the opposite, in fact. His feelings had run away from him over the past couple of months; he now found himself blushing whenever Arthur walked around his chambers with a bare chest, and helping him bathe had become a nightmare of trembling fingers and his heart trying to make a break for it through his ribcage. He had confided in Gwaine only because the knight had caught him leaning against the wall outside Arthur's door, trying to get his breath back after witnessing a still-damp Arthur strutting around after his bath completely sans clothing. He should have known that Gwaine would find a way to make him regret divulging that sort of information.

"Merlin," Arthur mumbled against Merlin's cheek. "You're so pretty, Merlin." He paused a second, then added in a small voice, "D'you think _I'm _pretty?"

"I think you're drunk," Merlin replied. It came out sharper than he intended, but luckily Arthur was so deeply immersed in his cloud of alcohol-induced bliss that he didn't notice. He began to play with Merlin's hair as they walked, twirling it around his fingers and brushing Merlin's cheekbones as he did so.

"Stop."

"You can't tell me what to do."

Being so much thinner and weaker than Arthur rendered Merlin powerless to resist being shoved into a nearby alcove. Arthur's weight pinned him against the wall as his nostrils filled with the scent of wine and roast beef. Arthur's hands were braced on either side of his head, trapping him. Shadows fell across most of his face, but Merlin could see his eyes perfectly clearly.

"You don't want to do this," Merlin whispered. His hands rested uselessly on Arthur's chest, wanting to push him back and at the same time not wanting to.

"I think I do, Merlin." He leaned down to delicately kiss Merlin's jaw, working his way slowly towards his chin. Merlin gasped and squirmed, but Arthur completely ignored him.

"How drunk are you?" the warlock asked weakly. A fog was growing in his brain, jumbling his thoughts and making him question why he was protesting. _Idiot, isn't this what you want_?

Arthur leaned back to look at him. "If you're worried I'm going to regret this tomorrow, I'm afraid you're mistaken."

Merlin blinked. Arthur's voice was suddenly clear and completely sober - so much so that Merlin wondered if he'd ever been drunk in the first place.

"Now, I do believe you owe me a goodnight kiss."

Arthur got his wish without giving Merlin a chance to argue. His lips were warm and pliant and he tasted exactly like he smelled, only hotter and wetter and so much _more_. Merlin was glad of the strong arms around his waist holding him upright - his knees had stopped functioning as knees and felt more like the watery spaghetti that Gaius had made for lunch that day. Merlin pressed himself tightly against Arthur, giving in to his body's desires and making a mental note to thank Gwaine for his prompt later.


	6. Wearing Each Other's Clothes

**Day 6: Wearing Each Other's Clothes**

**Rating: T to be safe**

* * *

The corridors of Camelot's citadel were beautiful in the morning. Sunlight caught the stained glass windows and threw dappled patters of iridescent colours onto the white walls, turning the building into the inside of a painting. Merlin whistled a lively tune that echoed the dawn chorus as he made his way back from the kitchen to Arthur's chambers. He didn't usually bring his master breakfast in bed - he was usually chased from the room by a flying boot if he even tried to wake Arthur up - but today he knew Arthur would be in a good mood, and the gesture a welcome surprise.

When he arrived it was to find Arthur already sitting up in bed. His mussed-up hair was lit into a wild halo by the light streaming in through the window, and the lower half of his face broke into a pleased grin when he saw the tray in Merlin's hands.

"What's this in aid of, I wonder?" he asked slyly, sliding off the bed and approaching the table with a devious glint in his eyes. "Is this a thank you for last night?"

Merlin slapped his arm but denied nothing. Arthur smirked and sat down to inspect the feast: sausages, eggs, bacon, mushrooms all stacked neatly on a silver plate. Merlin had seen to the arrangement himself - the cook was too careless with Arthur's food for his liking.

"Join me?"

With a smile that could have lit up the entire kingdom, Merlin slid into the chair opposite Arthur, plucking a sausage from the plate as he did so. He watched Arthur eat, inexplicably fascinated by the movement of his jaw. His eyes wandered downwards, suddenly growing wide.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked with alarm. He reached up to touch the spot that held Merlin's attention, and winced. "Seems you got a little carried away," he said. The bruise was the size of a damson and roughly the same colour; it stood out against Arthur's skin like a boisterous declaration.

"People are going to notice that," Merlin pointed out.

Arthur shrugged indifferently. "I'll wear your scarf."

"It's a neckerchief," Merlin protested. "And you can't wear it, it's mine. People will ask questions."

Arthur raised his head and fixed Merlin with those angelic blue eyes. "Tell me, how is me wearing your neckerchief any different to you wearing my shirt?"

Merlin blinked. "What?"

"You're wearing my shirt, Merlin."

The warlock looked down at himself and saw with a cold sense of dread that Arthur was right. No wonder the cook had looked at him as though he'd suddenly sprouted tentacles in the middle of her kitchen.

"It was dark when I got dressed," he mumbled defensively, plucking at the hem of the shirt. It fitted him loosely and the neckline fell uncomfortably low beneath his collarbone, but the fabric was soft and infused with Arthur's warm scent. It was much nicer than his own shirt, in any case.

Arthur's eyes smouldered with a mixture of amusement and affection. "Give me your scarf, idiot."

Merlin obeyed - the term had become an expression of endearment rather than an insult. Arthur's eyes wandered to Merlin's throat as he tied the scrap of material around his neck, effectively covering the evidence of Merlin's lusty attentions. He looked a little ridiculous wearing nothing except the neckerchief on his upper body. Merlin hurriedly turned his giggle into a cough, but Arthur's interest seemed to be fixed on Merlin's jugular.

"What are you staring at?" asked Merlin, wriggling uncomfortably.

Arthur smirked. "I may be disinclined to give this back. You look much better without it."


	7. Cosplaying

**Day 7: Cosplaying**

**Rating: K+**

**Modern AU**

**A/N:** This is the most cliché thing ever, but it's the only way I could think to write this chapter. Sorry.

* * *

Arthur hated fancy dress. The occasional pair of reindeer antlers at Christmas he could deal with, but a group of fifty or so people in their twenties adorned with sparkly fairy wings and toilet paper was just ridiculous. As if Halloween wasn't bad enough, Arthur happened to have several friends intent on torturing him throughout the year by throwing fancy dress parties. The only difference between these 'grown up' gatherings and an eight-year-old's birthday party was the alcohol - the one thing that made these nights bearable.

Furthermore, it was just Arthur's luck that his boyfriend was a child trapped in a gangly just-past-adolescence body. Merlin loved fancy dress. No, that was an understatement. He _adored_ it. He had begun to get excited about Arthur's sister's annual themed house party (to which the entire neighbourhood, all of Morgana's friends and acquaintances, all _their_ friends and acquaintances and a few random stragglers off the street were invited) about three months in advance. He'd even gone as far as to dedicate an entire sketchbook to costume ideas, which he showed Arthur at regular intervals. Arthur did his best to look interested, but frankly he thought he would rather walk around with his pants on his head than wear anything resembling a superhero outfit.

Unfortunately, Merlin was insistent and just too damn cute. On the night of the party, Arthur found himself standing outside Morgana's front door wearing a bright red tunic, tight, itchy trousers and a cloak that billowed out with the slightest breeze and almost pulled Arthur sideways with its weight. His feet were encased in soft leather boots that covered everything up to his knees. A plastic sword swung from the belt around his waist and his left arm was rendered useless by a huge cardboard shield. He'd known where Merlin was going with this year's costume right from the start, but his boyfriend's shining eyes and pouting lips had made him bite back his protests. He couldn't upset Merlin.

The door opened after Merlin knocked a third time. Morgana stood tall and proud in the doorway; she wore a long silver gown that shimmered every time she moved. Her arms, pale and delicate, contrasted starkly with her hair. Beads and lengths of silver thread glistened amidst the dark tresses. Her eyelids had been dusted a faint blue and her lips outlined in a darker shade. She looked like an ice princess.

After looking both of them up and down for a long moment, Morgana flashed her white teeth in a dazzling grin. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to show up like this." She smiled mockingly at Arthur. "Nice crown."

"Shut up," he mumbled.

Morgana lifted one corner of Merlin's cloak, eyeing the sewn-on silver stars with faint amusement. A matching pointed hat balanced precariously on Merlin's head and made his ears stick out obscenely.

"Don't you have a wand?" she asked Merlin.

Merlin scoffed. "Don't be silly, the real Merlin never used a wand."

"I doubt he wore a pointy hat and matching cloak, either," Arthur muttered. Louder, he said, "Are you going to let us in or not? People are staring."

Morgana shrugged carelessly and retreated down the hall, throwing a "Close the door behind you" over her shoulder.

The house was already filled with various witches, fairies, cats and superheroes. All their eyes seemed drawn to the hat on Merlin's head and the crown on Arthur's; some smiled at the reference whilst others shook their heads. Dressing as King Arthur and the wizard Merlin for one of Morgana's parties had been inevitable from the moment they had become a couple - it was simply too good a thing not to exploit, despite the horrendous cliché. Well, that was clearly the way Merlin saw it, anyway.

"You owe me for this," Arthur said, leaning close to Merlin's ear so he could hear him over the noise.

Merlin grinned at him. "Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while," he promised with a wink.


	8. Shopping

**Day 8: Shopping**

**Rating: K+**

**Modern AU**

**A/N:** Thank you to **PhantomTrancyVongola**, **Parsnip36** and **Deaths-Glance** for the lovely reviews, and to everyone who has followed/favourited/briefly glanced at this little project already. You guys are awesome!

* * *

"Come _on_ Arthur!" Merlin called over his shoulder. He had skipped on ahead down the street, his lithe body easily navigating the midday crowds. Arthur huffed sulkily, rolling his right shoulder to work out the cramp starting to form in the muscle. He wasn't happy about serving as Merlin's personal pack mule, but Merlin's arms were so skinny they would break under the weight of all the shopping bags he had accumulated. The entire town was draped with coloured lights and giant, grinning Santa Clauses; it was the first of December and Merlin had dragged Arthur Christmas shopping.

"Jeez Merlin, you've got far too much energy for a day like this," Arthur grumbled, casting a wary glance at the sky. It wasn't raining, but the pavements were damp and water still dripped from the ends of Arthur's hair and down the back of his jumper. He hadn't got a hand spare to carry an umbrella, and Merlin was the type of person who ran into the rain instead of out of it. His fingers were numb and his breath fogged in front of his face. The sour expressions of damp, bedraggled shoppers did nothing to lift Arthur's mood. "Fancy lending me some of it?"

Merlin came to a sudden halt, earning himself a number of grumbles and mutters from people having to sidestep him at the last second. He turned back to face Arthur, offering his hand and a smile that somehow managed to thaw out the ends of Arthur's fingers. Merlin slipped his arm through the crook of Arthur's elbow, gently taking a couple of the lighter bags from him.

"Thanks." Arthur returned Merlin's smile. "Hey, I'm starving, d'you think we could take a little break?"

Merlin tilted his head, pretending to consider. His growling stomach soon gave him away and the pair made their way across the street to a little café tucked between a bookshop and the post office. The place was quaintly old-fashioned, adorned with pastel-coloured furniture and white lace tablecloths. It was the kind of café that sold fifteen different kinds of tea and every sugary delicacy a sweet tooth could possibly want. Merlin loved it; he would stand like a small child in front of the counter, his eyes round as they took in the array of treats spread out before him. Arthur loved to watch him bite his lip and move his fingertips back and forth over the glass. He would change his mind at least half a dozen times, but it was always worth it to see his contented smile as he licked crumbs from his fingers.

Today's choice was a chocolate éclair that exploded with cream as soon as Merlin bit into it. Arthur chuckled as he tried to lick the cream off his nose and failed miserably. "Are you all set then?" he asked, handing his boyfriend a napkin.

"Hm? Oh! Yeah, I've just got yours and Morgana's presents left to get." He frowned. "Your sister is incredibly difficult to shop for."

"Just get her something sparkly, she'll be more than happy," Arthur said non-committally. Although he had come Christmas shopping with Merlin three weeks before the big day, Arthur had always been (and would always be) the one who left all of his own shopping until Christmas Eve.

Suddenly Merlin's eyes lit up. "You know what day it is?"

"Saturday?"

Merlin slapped his wrist playfully. "It's December first. You said we couldn't get a tree until December, and today is December first." The tree was the most important part of Christmas to Merlin. Normally Arthur couldn't have cared less about having a great big green plant decorated in sparkly things crowding his living room, but when one spent Christmas with Merlin, one had to be prepared to do everything properly right down to the last detail.

"Alright, we'll get a tree," Arthur conceded. "You've still got cream on your face, by the way."

He leaned across the table before Merlin could move, swiping the cream from his cheek with his finger. He licked his finger clean, smirking at the pink flush creeping along Merlin's cheekbones that had nothing to do with the cold.


	9. Hanging Out With Friends

**Day 9: Hanging Out with Friends**

**Rating: K+**

* * *

"Gaius is going to kill me."

"He doesn't have to know."

"He _always_ knows. Seriously, I swear he has a sixth sense for this sort of thing."

"Yes, well, tomorrow when you make up an excuse about spending the night in the tavern, it'll be true, won't it?"

Merlin huffed. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"No." Arthur sounded affronted. "Now are you coming in or not? It's freezing out here."

The warlock answered with another irritated sigh, but followed Arthur through the door. The little tavern was warm inside - almost uncomfortably so - and the air was thick with the smell of alcohol and smoke. There wasn't much business that night, only a few blurred shapes hunched in corners and leaning across the bar. A rowdy cheer erupted from the far side of the room, where the Knights of Camelot were crowded around a small table. Elyan and Percival shuffled round to make room and Gwaine pushed two pints of ale at them with a grin.

"I'm pretty sure there's some kind of law against this," he commented, looking around at each of them in turn.

"Against what?" asked Percival.

"Against respectable gentlemen like us spending our evening drinking ale instead of protecting Camelot's precious citizens." He didn't speak unkindly, but there was a note of genuine incredulity in his voice.

Arthur snorted. "I think you've earned one night off."

Gwaine raised an eyebrow. "Just the one?"

This earned a chorus of laughter from the rest of the party, which increased twofold when Arthur added, "All of you except Merlin. He's been as lazy and useless as ever."

Merlin almost choked on his beer. "Excuse me? Exactly _how_ many hours have I spent cleaning up after you this week? I must have cleaned out the stables at least four times, and -"

Arthur put an arm around his spluttering manservant. "Merlin, I was _joking_."

"Oh." The rest of the knights were staring at him, all of them looking amused at Merlin's expense, as usual. "What?" he mumbled, growing uncomfortable under the weight of all their gazes.

"Nothing." It was Leon who spoke up this time, and Merlin took a brief moment to acknowledge how surprised he was to see him. Leon didn't seem the sort to hang around in taverns when there was a city to protect. But then again, someone had to keep an eye on Gwaine. "I think I speak for us all when I say we're jealous of you, Merlin."

"_Jealous_?" Was Leon drunk already? "Of _me_? _Why_?"

Leon looked around at his fellow knights for support. Elyan jumped in next, seeing where Leon was going. "We're jealous of what you two have," he said, nodding at Arthur's hand. He had started to rub circles on the back of Merlin's neck, easing out the knots that had formed there when he'd mucked out the stables that morning. "It seems so effortless, like you two were made for each other."

Merlin's face was on fire. He buried it in Arthur's neck, taking comfort in the steady thumping of Arthur's pulse under his cheek. It sped up a little as Merlin played with a loose thread on the hem of Arthur's shirt.

"Hey, there's no need to rub it in," Gwaine piped up. He gave Merlin a wink, then got up and shuffled his way round their legs to the bar. He returned a few minutes later, somehow managing to carry six mugs of ale in both hands.

Three rounds later, Gwaine was well into his routine of drunken story-telling, complete with dramatic arm-waving and voice impressions. Whilst the rest of them were distracted, Arthur leaned close to whisper in Merlin's ear, "You know, we should do this more often. I know I always complain about how hopeless you are, but I do think you deserve to be treated more often."

Merlin stared at him, sure he'd heard wrong. "Is it me or are you becoming a lightweight?" he joked. "You've only had three pints and you're already talking nonsense."

"If you want to see a lightweight, look across the table," Arthur replied with a subtle nod at Gwaine, who had collapsed into a fit of giggles and was practically draping himself across Percy's lap. "But Merlin, I mean it. You're not useless."

"I still think you're drunk," Merlin muttered. He settled against Arthur's arm, sucking in a little breath when Arthur's hand stroked his thigh. "But I'll definitely hold you to that."


	10. With Animal Ears

**Day 10: With Animal Ears**

**Rating: K+**

**A/N:** I thought I'd do one where Arthur knows Merlin has magic. Also who remembers the episode where Arthur had donkey ears?

* * *

"Merlin? _Merlin_! MERLIN!"

Merlin was sick to death of hearing his own name, especially when it was being yelled in such an impatient, demanding tone. The walls practically vibrated with the echoes of Arthur's shouts, and Merlin had only gone two steps through the door to his chambers. The warlock turned and stalked back in, grinding his teeth hard enough to hurt.

"I've had it up to here with you today," he grumbled, crossing his arms obstinately over his chest.

Arthur was confined to his bed by a cold and Merlin had spent the entire day waiting on him hand and foot - the same thing he did every day, really. He'd expected a peaceful day of fetching Arthur soup and bathing his forehead when it got too hot from the fever, but apparently being ill hadn't disabled Arthur's ability to bellow at Merlin like an ox until he got what he wanted. Arthur rarely got sick, and even when he did he refused to stay in bed like he was supposed to. Being forced to do so today had put him in the foulest of moods, and as usual Merlin was taking the brunt of it.

Arthur scowled at Merlin's last remark. "Don't talk to me like that, I'm not a child."

"You're certainly behaving like one," Merlin scoffed. "You're going to wreck your throat if you carry on shouting, and you're giving me a headache."

"Can't you just use magic to make me better? I'm so _bored_."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "It's just a cold, don't be such a baby."

"I'm the King _Mer_lin, and if I tell you to use magic you will do so without argument!"

Merlin's lips stretched into a slow smile. "Fine, have it your way."

* * *

About half an hour later there was a knock at the door. Gaius had been coming in at regular intervals throughout the morning to check on Arthur - well, he said he was checking on Arthur, but actually he really wanted to make sure that Merlin hadn't been driven insane. Each time the physician had entered the room Merlin had looked increasingly more murderous. Gaius could tell the boy was tempted to take revenge on Arthur using magic (he certainly appeared to deserve it), so when he noticed Merlin sitting calmly in a chair with a book on his lap, Gaius was instantly suspicious.

"Gaius," Merlin greeted him cheerfully and carefully marked his page before standing up.

"How is our lord feeling?" Gaius asked, scrutinizing Merlin's face. His expression gave nothing away.

"Well, he's certainly been quieter of late," Merlin remarked casually. "I wonder if he's fallen asleep."

Gaius glanced nervously towards the lump under the bedsheets. He could see it quivering, and hear the animal-like noises it was making even from across the room. "Merlin, what have you done?"

Grinning conspiratorially, Merlin shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing he didn't deserve."

When Gaius pulled back the sheets, it was to discover a miserable Arthur curled into a ball in the centre of his bed. His arms were wrapped around his legs, his knees up under his chin, and a pair of long grey ears protruded from his head. When he saw Gaius Arthur tried to speak, but all that came out was a dismayed braying noise.

Gaius' eyebrows shot up into his hairline. He turned to Merlin, mouth agape. Merlin was still grinning and appeared incredibly pleased with himself.

"Not again, Merlin," Gaius scolded, but Merlin could tell he was struggling not to laugh. "Once was bad enough, but twice is just cruel."

"He told me to use magic, so I did," replied Merlin loftily. He gazed down at the sorry figure on the bed, feeling a sudden pang of regret. He reached out and gently stroked one of the ears. Arthur flinched back, then seemed to give in and let Merlin pet him.

"The enchantment will wear off in an hour or so," said Merlin to no one in particular. "I'm hoping it will have taught him a lesson, otherwise he's going to kill me."

Arthur made a noise that confirmed the latter, but he leaned further into Merlin's hand, enjoying the attention being paid to his newly-acquired ears.

Since he was apparently not needed, Gaius packed up his equipment and left the room, shaking his head a final time before closing the door behind him. Arthur's head was now fully in Merlin's lap, with Merlin sitting cross-legged on the bed. The King was breathing heavily and seemed on the verge of sleep. Merlin found the repetitiveness of stroking his silky ears soothing, and it wasn't long before both of them were asleep.

Needless to say, when Arthur woke up and found he was no longer part ass, all hell broke loose.


	11. Wearing Kigurumis

**Day 11: Wearing Kigurumis**

**Rating: K+**

**Modern AU**

* * *

It had been snowing for three days. Not a light dusting of flakes that left the world looking like the top of an enormous Victoria sponge, but an angry whirling blizzard of white that obscured the view from the windows and made going outside even for a moment a dangerous feat.

Arthur was curled up in a tight ball on the sofa wrapped in three blankets and clutching a mug of hot soup. He normally liked snow, but three days of being stuck indoors was taking its toll. Things would have been bad enough, but as luck would have it the boiler had finally broken down the previous evening and the apartment was like the inside of a freezer. He had been nagging the landlord about fixing it since October and he'd promised he would get it sorted it out, but there always seemed to be something else of higher importance that needed to be done instead.

His mood had reached an all time low by the time the front door clattered open and a blast of numbing air barged into the flat from the hallway. The draft was followed by Arthur's room-mate-turned-boyfriend, who promptly whirled around to slam the door shut after dumping a carrier bag on the counter in the kitchen. Curious, Arthur got up and went to investigate.

"Hey!" Merlin's nose and ears were glowing red and his hair was rumpled from wearing his woolly hat, but he was beaming as though it wasn't minus twelve degrees outside and about minus ten in the apartment. He went to kiss Arthur but the other stepped back, holding his hands in front of him.

"Oh no you don't, I've only just got my body temperature up to a non-critical level."

Merlin laughed and gestured to the carrier bag. "There's something in there that might help with that."

Over the past months he'd spent living with Merlin, Arthur had learned to always be suspicious of anything the other man brought home. Which was why he was only half as surprised as he could have been when he pulled an oversized romper suit out of the bag. He held it away from him at arm's length, looking over the expanse of dark red material like it might bite him.

"Merlin, what on earth is _this_?"

Merlin was still grinning, exceptionally pleased with himself. "It's a kigurumi," he said brightly.

"It looks like something an infant would wear."

"It's fashion," Merlin said loftily. He took the bag from Arthur's hand and pulled out another similar garment. This one was a far less alarming colour - the kind of blue that know-it-alls like his sister would call 'cornflower blue'. Merlin's eyes shone as he held it up to show Arthur. "Look, I've got one too."

"You don't really expect me to wear this, do you?"

As a matter of fact Merlin did expect him to wear it, and even let out a little squeal of delight when Arthur shuffled into the living room wearing the monstrosity that his boyfriend called a gift. Merlin was already wearing his and had settled into a corner of the sofa, looking incredibly cosy and completely adorable.

"The red suits you," Merlin commented as Arthur threw himself down on the sofa.

Arthur grunted in response. Even though he still felt ridiculous, he was much warmer now. Merlin crawled closer and snuggled into his side, pulling the blankets over them both.

"Don't pout," Merlin said, kissing him lightly on the nose. "Some day you'll grow to like it."

"I doubt that. However, I do think I like seeing you in one."

Merlin blushed. "Behave."

"Make me."


	12. Making Out

**Day 12: Making Out**

**Rating: T**

**A/N:** I'm rubbish at writing this kind of stuff but I tried my best. Enjoy :)

* * *

Arthur Pendragon has never been an easy man to predict. Even after all these years of being by his side, I'm almost always one step behind him. I've learned to be constantly on the lookout for opportunities he might take to do something stupid, but never could I have been prepared for what he did today.

It happened when we were in his chambers this morning; he was sat at his desk sorting through paperwork (he's done little else with his time these past few days) and I was in the middle of changing the sheets on his bed. The room was silent but for the rustling of parchment and linen. My hands moved of their own accord and my brain had switched itself off, so naturally I jumped two feet in the air when Arthur banged his fist down on the table.

"Why do you have to do this, Merlin?"

The question took me completely by surprise and I had no idea what to say. He was staring at me with a half-wild glint in his eyes; his movements were jerky as he got to his feet, as though he was fighting some internal battle as he made his way towards me. I backed up against the wall, concerned and a little terrified by his expression. He didn't stop advancing until his face was close enough to mine for me to count the shades of blue and silver in his eyes. He raised his arms and planted his hands on the wall either side of my head, effectively trapping me.

"Arthur." I tried without success to keep my voice steady. My senses were overwhelmed by his closeness and my body had begun to react beyond my control. "What are you doing?"

He didn't reply. His eyes swept over my body, moving slowly as though he was appreciating every square inch of me separately and in turn. My skin itched where his gaze lingered. I turned my head away then stood as still as stone.

With deliberately slow movements, he leaned in to nose at my cheek, breathing deeply against my skin. He crowded right into the contours of my body until it was flush with his and I could feel his heart racing next to mine. Some part of me rebelled against the invasion of my personal space, but then I reminded myself that this was _Arthur_, the man I had known for years and whose mere presence made my knees feel weak. I could smell the soap and sweat on his skin, and something else beneath that, something purely masculine and distinctly _Arthur._

I slid my arms around his waist, feeling my muscles shed themselves of tension as I held him against me. He sucked in a breath and my skin erupted in goosebumps at the simple, desperate sound. One of his hands found its way to my neck and the pads of his fingers passed softly over the tendons there. The heat between our bodies was suddenly explosive and finally, _finally, _Arthur Pendragon kissed me.

The kisses started off light and tentative, and I started to think he was teasing me on purpose. My hands wandered up his back to thread in his hair, and I gave a little tug on the strands to reprimand him. I jumped a little when his teeth nipped sharply at my lip, effectively reminding me who was in charge. But a second later he was pushing my lips apart with his and kissing me like his life depended upon it. I clung to him in shock as my legs threatened to give out; he wrapped one long arm right around my waist and crushed me to him, allowing each brush of his lips to tell more of the story.

Through his kisses Arthur told me about how months and years of friendship - for friends we were, even if he didn't like to admit it - had slowly evolved into something more, something he couldn't avoid no matter how hard he'd tried. All the hours he'd spent silently longing, how difficult it had been to hide his feelings in fear that I wouldn't return them. Never had I undergone such an onslaught of emotion as I did when Arthur kissed me for the first time, and when we were forced to either break apart or pass out, I was barely surprised to feel moisture on my cheeks.

Arthur gently brushed the tears away with the pad of his thumb, cradling my face like I was a precious china bowl. "Did I hurt you?" he whispered.

I could only shake my head and tighten the clammy grip I had on his shirt. The touch of his lips was delicate this time, full of care and love. I sighed when he pulled away, but he kept his forehead pressed lightly against mine.

I opened my eyes to find myself looking right into Arthur's. His pupils were blown wide, leaving only a sliver of blue visible. I didn't need to look to know that mine were exactly the same.

"So where does this leave us?" I asked.

Arthur closed his eyes, ducking down to press his nose against my neck. "Don't ruin it," he whined.

"But -"

"_Mer_lin." He raised his head, fixing me with one of his stern glares. Its usual effect was completely spoiled by his dilated pupils. "It has taken me months to build up the courage to even kiss you, and would like to continue to do so for at least another two hours. But I can't do that if you insist on using your mouth to ask questions that don't need to be answered yet. Understand?"

I nodded meekly, then smirked. "Are you going to be able to just stick to kissing me for two whole hours?"

He answered that question with a growl, then grabbed hold of my wrist and tugged me swiftly towards the bed.


	13. Eating Ice Cream

**Day 13: Eating Ice Cream**

**Rating: T**

**Modern AU**

**A/N:** Did they have ice cream in the Middle Ages? Oh well, I'll just make this modern AU to be safe.

* * *

For their first date, Arthur took Merlin to the cinema. Yes it was cliché but to be honest Arthur was a complete nervous wreck, so having Merlin not able to see the high colour in his cheeks and the hair sticking to the back of his neck was a definite relief. Sitting in the dark for an hour gave him time to calm down, and towards the end of the film he had plucked up the courage to wrap his arm around Merlin's skinny shoulders and pull him close. For their second date Arthur wanted to do something more original. His first idea had been paintballing, but Merlin was liable to break into a million pieces if he got hit even once. In the end, Arthur decided they would just go for ice cream.

That was a bad decision, he now realised.

Arthur was trapped in a booth at their local café, forced to watch Merlin's pink tongue lavish his afternoon treat like it was the most delicious thing in the entire world. He was a messy eater at the best of times; the creamy vanilla substance ended up smeared all over his pouty lips and Arthur had to clench his fist under the table to restrain himself. Merlin was too preoccupied to notice how hard Arthur was trying not to throw himself across the table and lick his mouth clean.

Once the ice cream was gone, Merlin turned his attention to his fingers. He sucked each one into his mouth in turn, swirling his tongue around the digits to clean off the strawberry sauce and making little noises of delight as he did so. Arthur bit his lip hard enough to taste blood - how the hell could someone make something so innocent look so bloody sexy?

Finally Merlin seemed to remember Arthur was there. He raised his head and Arthur's eyes were drawn immediately to his mouth; a tiny smudge of white still lingered in the right-hand corner.

"Merlin." Even after clearing his throat, Arthur's voice came out husky. "You missed a bit."

Merlin raised his eyebrows as if this was a pleasant surprise, but made no move to do anything about it. "Did I?"

"Yes."

"Get it for me?"

Arthur blinked. He suddenly noticed how big Merlin's pupils were. "You - you were doing that on purpose," he stuttered.

Merlin laughed. "Of course I was. No one eats ice cream like that."

"You cheeky little -"

Merlin got up and slid into the seat beside Arthur, leaning in so their noses were almost touching.

"How else was I supposed to get you to kiss me?"

Arthur smiled and took Merlin's chin in his hand. "You could have just asked."

"This way was more fun," Merlin whispered against Arthur's lips.

* * *

**Another A/N: **Wow, that turned out really suggestive. Sorry guys XD


	14. Genderswapped

**Day 14: Genderswapped**

**Rating: K+**

**A/N: **I had fun writing this one, my mind was full of such funny images. Enjoy my lovelies.

* * *

The morning started as ordinarily as any other. Gaius rose shortly after dawn, dressed and set about readying his supplies for his morning rounds. Knowing that Merlin wouldn't rise for quite a while, he began to prepare breakfast in the hope that the smell of cooking bacon would lure Merlin from his bed. As usual, his hopes were in vain.

"Come on Merlin, you're going to be late!" Gaius called, knocking impatiently on Merlin's door. There was no reply, only silence. Gaius knocked again, louder this time. "If you don't open this door I'm coming in."

There was a crash, the sound of breaking glass and a high-pitched shriek. Gaius' eyebrow shot up into his hairline. Was there a _girl_ in Merlin's chambers?

"Merlin?"

The door swung open and Gaius came face to face with a tall, slim woman with bright blue eyes and cheekbones that could cut glass. She wore nothing but a nightshirt - a nightshirt, Gaius noted before averting his gaze, that belonged to Merlin.

"I'm sorry, my lady," stuttered the physician, "I was looking for -"

"Gaius," the woman interrupted. "Gaius, it's me."

And suddenly Gaius realised that, aside from the obvious differences, this woman looked a whole lot like Merlin. They had the same tall, lightly toned frame, the same full, pink lips and the same ears that were just slightly too large.

"Merlin? How...?"

"I don't know!" Merlin's voice was suddenly too high-pitched for Gaius' old ears. "I woke up and looked in the mirror and... this!" He gestured wildly at himself, his eyes filling up with tears.

Still slightly shell-shocked, Gaius led Merlin to a chair and gently pushed him into it. He - she - had begun to sniffle and dab at her eyes, and while the sight was undeniably adorable, Gaius had no experience in dealing with over-emotional girls. He'd had enough trouble coping with Morgana after one of her nightmares, and had hoped he would never have to go through such an ordeal again.

Taking the seat opposite Merlin, Gaius dug a handkerchief out of his pocket and passed it across the table. Merlin wrinkled her nose charmingly, but took the scrap of cloth and used it to wipe her cheeks. Gaius sat back in his chair and tried not to gawk at Merlin's prominent collarbone and shiny, silky hair. It tumbled over her shoulders in a way that would have made Morgana jealous. For once Gaius was glad she had betrayed them all and disappeared into the wilderness - at least there wouldn't be a fight over hair products in Camelot.

"Merlin, you must have some idea how -"

"I don't!" Merlin cried. "Do you think I would do something like this on _purpose_?"

Gaius held up his hands in surrender. He realised he was going to have to tread carefully if he didn't want to go prematurely deaf. "No, of course not. I believe you."

An insistent knock at the door made them both jump. Merlin gave a little gasp and put her hand over her heart, and Gaius tried very hard not to roll his eyes as he got up to answer it.

It was Arthur. But it wasn't Arthur. It was a woman with golden hair hanging in ringlets around her face and murder in her wide, blue eyes. Thankfully it wasn't Gaius she was glaring at.

"Merlin! What the _hell_ have you done this time? Explain yourself!"

Merlin stood up, crossing her arms over her chest. "You think this is _my_ fault? Really Arthur, you're the most insufferable, arrogant pig I have ever met!"

"How dare you!" Arthur shrieked, stalking past Gaius and into the room. She stopped about half a foot away from Merlin and jabbed a perfectly manicured fingernail towards her face. "You take that back!"

The two women soon became so absorbed in their bickering that they didn't notice the physician leave the room. closing the door softly behind him. Gaius had decided he wouldn't be ready to face such a terrifying problem until he'd spent a good few hours in the tavern. He hoped they would have finished their fight by then, but he wasn't counting on anything.


	15. In A Different Clothing Style

**Day 15: In a Different Clothing Style**

**Rating: K+**

**Reincarnation fic**

**A/N: **Halfway there!

* * *

"I don't think I'll ever get used to this."

Merlin raised his head, peering at Arthur over the top of his reading glasses. He had been absorbed in a thick leather-bound volume he had found at the library that day. He spent all of his free time at the library lately, especially since he had discovered there was an entire section on medieval Britain. The accuracy of some of the books was shocking, and the ridiculousness of others was equally shocking. They all amused Merlin greatly. Unfortunately Arthur couldn't find any similar joy in this new world.

"Don't worry Arthur, it took me months to even accept the fact that water comes out of a tap and not a well."

Arthur braced his hands against the marble counter and made a face. "It's so different from Camelot," he said helplessly. "The houses, the transport... and don't even get me started on the clothes."

Merlin laughed. "Now that I can agree with. I miss my neckerchief."

"I don't," said Arthur with a smirk. The relief at seeing the familiar teasing expression on Arthur's face made Merlin shut his mouth against a retort.

"That reminds me actually," he said instead, "I got something for you today. It's in the bedroom."

Arthur looked sceptical. "I still remember the last time you said that. Those black jeans were so tight I couldn't feel my feet."

Merlin sighed. "Alright, I'll admit those were a mistake, but do you want to fit in or not?"

"Fine."

Merlin watched his boyfriend slouch off to their bedroom before returning to his book. A little while later Arthur returned, and Merlin felt his mouth fall open.

"What do you think?" Arthur asked nervously, tugging at the lapels of the leather jacket and spinning in a circle. The material clung to the strong line of his shoulders and hugged the muscles in his forearms like a second skin. On the bottom half he wore the light blue jeans Merlin had picked to go with the jacket. The jeans accentuated his perfectly shaped thighs and the colour somehow made his eyes look more blue.

"Here," Merlin said around the dryness in his throat. He knelt at Arthur's feet and turned up the bottoms of the jeans so he wouldn't trip over them when he walked. He sat back on his haunches, admiring his handiwork. "This is definitely better than the goth fiasco. All you need now is a pair of sunglasses and a motorbike."

Arthur rolled his eyes, twisting around to get a look at the backs of his legs. Merlin noticed with barely concealed delight that the jeans clung to his behind beautifully. "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. But you might be right, this does work better."

Merlin hummed as he straightened and slipped his arms around Arthur's waist. "Okay, now you've had a chance to look, you can take everything off again."

"Cheeky," Arthur muttered, but he made no move to stop Merlin pushing the jacket off his shoulders.

"It's part of my charm."


	16. During Their Morning Ritual(s)

**Day 16: During Their Morning Ritual(s)**

**Rating: K+**

* * *

It was a rare occasion when Merlin let himself into Arthur's chambers in the morning to find his master already sitting up in bed. Today was not one of those occasions. The breakfast tray balanced on his arms was overloaded this morning, and Merlin struggled to wrestle the doors open without tipping the food all over the floor. Fortunately he had his magic to help and made it inside without any mishap. He was greeted by the sound of Arthur's rumbling snores, and took that as a sign that he didn't need to bother to be quiet. When Arthur was this deeply asleep it would take an entire army to wake him.

After setting the tray down on the table, Merlin began to make his usual methodical preparations: laying out Arthur's clothes on a chair, brushing specks of mud off his boots, sweeping ash from the hearth. As he straightened up, his hands grimy with soot, the back of his neck began to prickle as though someone was watching him. He turned to the bed, but Arthur hadn't moved and his eyes were firmly closed.

Muttering a spell under his breath, Merlin banished the black powder from his hands and made his way lightly to Arthur's bedside. The King was very adamant about always sleeping on the left, so there was plenty of room on the other side for Merlin. The warlock lay on his side, his head pillowed on his arm, and waited for Arthur's eyes to open.

Rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, igniting Arthur's golden hair into a pale halo. The light made his face a study in contrast; the shadows under his nose and cheekbones were stark in comparison to the rest of his skin. His eyelashes were a few shades darker than his hair, and so long that they brushed the tops of his cheeks as his eyelids fluttered. He only wore shirts to bed in winter, so Merlin was offered a splendid view of his toned chest above where the blankets pooled around his waist. His lips were dry and a little chapped, slightly parted in an almost flawless impersonation of sleep. Merlin gently pushed Arthur's fringe back from his forehead, and the King let out a soft sigh.

When he spoke, his voice was deep and rough enough to make Merlin's stomach do a little somersault. "Merlin, you're staring."

"And you were only pretending to be asleep."

The light transformed Arthur's eyes into shards of sapphire, making Merlin catch his breath. "How did you know?"

"You stopped snoring."

With a throaty chuckle Arthur reached out to smooth Merlin's dark hair where it had become rumpled by the pillow. He let his fingers trail down the side of Merlin's face and come to rest just under his ear. "Good morning."

"Morning." Merlin turned his head to kiss Arthur's palm, then pushed himself into a sitting position. "Come on, the knights will be waiting for you."

Arthur groaned and scrubbed at his eyes like a small child. He was about to pull the sheets over his head, but changed his mind when he spotted the display of food waiting for him. Then he was up like a shot and Merlin almost got his feet tangled in his scramble to get off the bed.

"Hey," he scolded, slapping Arthur's hand as he was about to help himself to five of the six sausages. "Some of that's mine."

Arthur gazed up at him mournfully. "You can't tell me what I can and can't eat."

"Trust me on this one," said Merlin, grabbing two of the sausages and some toast before Arthur could stop him.

"Are you trying to say I'm fat?"

"We have this conversation every other morning Arthur."

"_Are_ you?"

"No, but if you eat like a pig it won't be long before I'm saying the opposite."

They ate the remainder of their breakfast in silence. Merlin began to worry he'd upset Arthur - the King refused to meet his gaze. Cautiously Merlin slid his foot forward under the table, bringing it into contact with Arthur's in a way that couldn't possibly be accidental. Arthur remained motionless for a second before raising his head and offering Merlin a surprisingly shy smile, letting him know he was forgiven.

Dressing Arthur was always something of an experience for Merlin. He couldn't count how many times he'd done it before, but his body still reacted in the same way. His fingers trembled as he laced the ties on the front of Arthur's shirt, and he felt his cheeks grow warm when the back of his hand brushed the bare skin under Arthur's collarbone. The other man watched him with half-lidded eyes, sending goosebumps skittering down Merlin's arms with the intensity of his gaze. The air between them had grown thick and hot. Merlin was close enough to see the pulse in Arthur's neck; it matched the one in Merlin's chest beat for beat. Arthur's hands were warm, almost burning, where they rested on Merlin's hips. When had that happened?

"Arthur" was all he managed to say before he was cut off by the King's rough lips covering his. He couldn't find it in himself to resist, but allowed his body to melt against Arthur's. Before he knew it his fingers were pulling at the ties he had so carefully knotted, and he would have to start them all over again when he gathered enough willpower to pull away. A voice in the back of his head reminded him adamantly about the knights and the fact that Arthur had a training session to lead, but the rest of him argued that they wouldn't mind waiting. After all, they were used to it by now.


	17. Spooning

**Day 17: Spooning**

**Rating: K+**

* * *

Arthur wasn't sure when exactly it had become customary for Merlin to wander into his chambers in the middle of the night. They weren't a couple - well, not officially - and Merlin was always careful about keeping his distance acceptable when they were inside Camelot. But tonight, for the fifth night running, Arthur was woken by the dip of the mattress as Merlin climbed onto the bed beside him. Without a word he turned his back and lay down, tantalisingly close but not near enough to touch.

By the time Merlin had settled down Arthur was wide awake. His eyes followed the silvery outline of Merlin's body, lit by a sliver of moonlight escaping through the curtains. His manservant was clothed in nothing but a thin linen shirt; the material was rough on Arthur's skin when he laid his cheek against Merlin's shoulder blade. He tried to be surreptitious about shuffling closer, but the rustling sheets gave him away. Merlin made a small noise of content as Arthur wrapped his arms around his skinny waist, drawing him back against his chest. Merlin's skin was pleasantly cool from his journey through the moonlit corridors and his hair smelled of something sweet; Arthur buried his nose in the dark locks and took a deep breath, holding it as though to preserve Merlin's scent inside his lungs.

If anyone were to ask him, Arthur would adamantly deny being the cuddling type. His stubbornness even extended into his own head; he still hadn't fully come to terms with how blissful holding Merlin in his arms like this felt. His hands crept beneath Merlin's nightshirt and rested lightly on his abdomen, where his fingers traced absent-minded patterns over alabaster skin. He felt Merlin quiver and realised he was giggling.

"Arthur, it tickles," he murmured in a voice thick and heavy with sleep.

"Sorry. Do you want me to stop?"

"No, it's... nice."

Arthur smiled into Merlin's neck before resuming his movements, pressing lazy kisses to the top of Merlin's spine. His manservant shuddered for an entirely different reason this time, wriggling back against Arthur as though he wanted to melt their bodies together. Arthur tightened his arms around the other man to still him, and Merlin breathed out softly. He laced his slender fingers with Arthur's rough ones, and the King allowed Merlin's steady heartbeat to lull him to sleep.


	18. Doing Something Together

**Day 18: Doing Something Together**

**Rating: K+**

**A/N:** Thank you for the lovely reviews. I'm glad you guys are liking this so far, even though it's been quite difficult for me at times. But seeing your reviews makes me determined to see this through, so that's what I shall do.

* * *

Merlin wasn't a fan of boats. The only experiences he'd had with them were ones he'd rather forget - the journey to the Isle of the Blessed to meet Nimueh, saying goodbye to Lancelot and Freya. He wasn't a big fan of water either, especially not cold water full of all sorts of nameless slimy creatures that brushed against his bare feet. So when Arthur took him to the lake and began to pull a little rowing boat from under the trees towards the shore, Merlin was nothing short of horrified.

"Are you joking?" he asked, eyeing the wooden structure as though it might bite.

Arthur shook his head and tossed two water skins at him. They slapped Merlin in the face and Arthur didn't even turn around. "You're always complaining about wanting to get out of the citadel," he reminded him. "And I thought this would make a nice change from picnics and horse riding."

Merlin dropped the pack he was holding at his feet and folded his arms. "I think I'd prefer the horse," he muttered.

"I don't understand what's so bad about boats, _Mer_lin," said Arthur. "Are you going to help me with this or not?"

"You seem to be managing fine by yourself." The boat was halfway to the edge of the lake and Arthur wasn't even out of breath.

Arthur sighed as though the entire world was against him, but about a minute and a half later the boat was poised at the edge of the water and there was only the faintest hue of rose on the King's cheeks. He straightened up and stared Merlin down across the sand, his eyebrows furrowed as though he was trying to read the warlock's mind.

"What are you staring at?" Merlin asked, hating the tremor that was suddenly in his voice.

"The only reason I can think of for your reaction to this idea is that you're scared of water." Arthur sounded like he was struggling to hold back laughter.

"I'm not _scared_ of -" he broke off and bit his lip. "Yeah, fine, I am a little scared. But I think I have good reason to be."

To his surprise, Arthur didn't burst out laughing. His eyes grew soft and in a few strides he had covered the distance between them. He took one of Merlin's hands between both of his and looked his manservant straight in the eyes.

"I understand, Merlin. I do. But I really think you'll enjoy this if you give it a chance."

Unable to hold his gaze for long, Merlin opted for staring at his feet. Arthur hadn't allowed them to be this close for ages - they always had to be careful around Camelot in case suspicions were aroused. But out here, away from duty and prying eyes, they could be completely themselves. Merlin realised he was being ridiculous; who knew when they would next get the chance to be alone together?

"Alright," he conceded. Arthur's smile almost split his face in half and he all but dragged Merlin towards the boat, ordering him to get in whilst he pushed it onto the water. Merlin gripped the edges as the boat jolted into motion, tightening his grip when the addition of Arthur's weight made it rock unnervingly.

There was an oar under each of the two benches; Arthur used one of them to guide the boat out into the middle of the lake whilst Merlin watched the trees pass by in a blur of vibrant green. The sun shone on the surface of the water and almost blinded him. He looked up at the sky and the fluffy white clouds, trying to make shapes out of them. He lowered his chin when he felt Arthur's eyes on him. The expression on the King's face made Merlin's chest feel incredibly light; he was looking at him as though he couldn't quite believe he was there, but he didn't want to take his eyes off him for a second in case he missed something.

"What?"

"Nothing," said Arthur, quickly looking away. That smile was still on his face, and Merlin wasn't that easily fooled.

Merlin nudged Arthur's ankle with his foot. "Tell me."

Arthur raised his head, squinting into the sunlight that transformed his eyes into iridescent gems. "You're beautiful, Merlin," he said softly.

"I am?"

"It's easy for me to forget, what with all the responsibilities I have back at the castle. I don't get a chance to really appreciate you like I should. Then when we come out into the woods I realise what I've been missing."

Merlin couldn't stop a grin from spreading across his face. Moments like this were a rare thing - Arthur was not a man who was comfortable with vocalising what was going through his head. But when he did, Merlin had learned it was best not to reply. Instead he would let Arthur's words sweeten the air between them and count the hues of blue and silver in his eyes.


	19. In Formal Wear

**Day 19: In Formal Wear**

**Rating: T**

* * *

The day of Arthur's coronation ball was one of the most stressful of Merlin's life. He would have chosen facing any manner of demon the most evil sorcerer could conjure over dealing with a nerve-riddled King and his volatile temper. As if Merlin's nerves weren't already stretched to their limits, he had to be on constant alert for airbourne objects sailing towards his head - Arthur wasn't picky about what he used as a missile when he was in this kind of mood.

When the time finally came for Arthur to get dressed, Merlin was almost ready to hurl himself from the castle's ramparts. He stood in Arthur's chambers with a ridiculous pile of clothes balancing unstably on his arms whilst the King stood behind his screen and muttered a constant string of unintelligible complaints. Merlin doubted the vast majority of the words he was saying were even allowed to be uttered by royalty, but he wisely decided that stating this fact to Arthur would not be a good idea in the slightest.

After the sixth or seventh outfit change Merlin was ready to give up. Was this ball even _that_ important? Most of the guests attending had been at the coronation itself - all the important ones, anyway - so was there any need to spend another evening trotting around with a wine jug and making polite conversation? Merlin thought not.

The exhausted warlock had taken up residence on the end of Arthur's bed having dumped the clothes unceremoniously on the mattress beside him. Arthur was unnecessarily fussy when it came to choosing outfits for important occasions - he looked radiant and god-like in everything he wore, as far as Merlin was concerned. Shockingly though, Arthur's was of the complete opposite opinion.

Finally Arthur emerged from behind the screen clad in a tunic that matched the exact colour of his eyes, a pair of simple black breeches and a silver cloak that shimmered like the reflection of moonlight on water. At his throat was a silver clasp shaped like a dragon and an empty scabbard hung at his hip. The combination of blue and silver made his eyes stand out a mile and seemed to lighten the tones of his hair to shades of pale gold. He stood in front of the full length mirror twisting his body this way and that, pulling unimpressed faces as he did so.

Merlin, however, was fighting for all he was worth not to throw himself at his master. Arthur looked like something that could only exist in dreams or stories, and yet he was standing just a few feet away, completely unaware of Merlin's sudden incapability to form a single coherent thought.

Because of this, when Arthur asked the question, "What do you think of this one?" the only noise Merlin was able to make was a sort of strangled squeak not unlike the kind of sound a Wildren might make. Arthur turned to stare at him with raised eyebrows and impossibly blue eyes.

"You alright?"

Merlin passed a hand over his face. "No Arthur, I most certainly am not alright."

"Why -?" He broke off as Merlin wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, resting his chin on Arthur's shoulder and gazing at their reflections. Well, Arthur's in particular. He had hoped the reflection would dull down the vision of ethereal beauty that was Arthur Pendragon so that Merlin could get his breath back, but the mirror apparently seemed opposed to such a deed.

Arthur turned his head so that his mouth was next to Merlin's ear. "Merlin," he said quietly, "you're distracting me."

"_I'm_ distracting _you_?"

"Just answer the question, will you? We haven't got all night."

"I think," Merlin drawled softly, "you - look - incredible." He punctuated each word with a kiss to Arthur's neck. The King sighed with pleasure but his expression remained stubbornly unconvinced.

"Let's try something else," he said. He tried to twist out of Merlin's grasp and retreat behind the screen, but Merlin was faster. In one swift movement, and with a little help from his magic, he twisted Arthur round to face him and pushed him against the nearest wall. Arthur's eyes widened with surprise, the blue of them almost blinding.

Merlin shoved his face close to Arthur's and spoke in a voice deep enough to be a growl. "I swear to all the gods, Arthur Pendragon, I've reached the end of my patience with you today. If you make the slightest move to take any of those clothes off I won't be held responsible for my actions."

Arthur's heart was racing under Merlin's fingers, but his gaze was steady. Being this close to him was proving almost too overwhelming for Merlin's senses to cope with, but his stood his ground, pinning Arthur against the wall with his hips. He watched the King's pupils expand and his eyelids grow heavy. Merlin's body responded automatically to every movement Arthur made, much to the warlock's annoyance.

"Don't overestimate my self-control," he warned. "You look far too delicious in that outfit as it is. It simply won't do."

Although Merlin's dominance was undeniably arousing, Arthur knew he still had the upper hand. "Shall we make this into a game?" he asked with a smirk. "Let's see how long you can last tonight without dragging me back up here and tearing off my expensive clothes."

This time Merlin really did growl, but the sound was made less threatening by his breath catching in his throat. "What if I manage to last until the ball is over? What then?"

"Then you can do what you please with me," Arthur replied without hesitation.

"And if I don't last?"

Arthur grinned wickedly in the form of a reply just as someone knocked on the door, announcing that Arthur would be expected in the dining hall in a few minutes. With a groan of defeat Merlin stepped back, smoothing out the creases in Arthur's tunic made by his clinging fingers. In turn Arthur looked him up and down; Merlin wore a simple red shirt and dark breeches, accompanied with the blue-grey neckerchief that was reserved for occasions such as this.

"I think this game could go either way," Arthur remarked. His nerves seemed to have magically disappeared, allowing Arthur's old arrogance to return to its rightful place. Merlin wasn't sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. "Let's go."

Arthur smiled crookedly and made for the door. Merlin jogged to catch up, muttering half-hearted insults under his breath all the way down the stairs.


	20. Dancing

**Day 20: Dancing**

**Rating: T**

**A/N: **_Maniacal Mittens_ requested a continuation of the last chapter, so that's what I did with this one. I didn't include any smut because I'm not very good at writing it, but I hope this is kind of what you had in mind.

* * *

During the coronation ball, Merlin tried his hardest to be good and stay out of the way whilst Arthur tried to make a good impression on his guests, but every time the King smiled the tempo of Merlin's heartbeat sped up to match the lively music and he was overcome with longing for Arthur to be smiling at _him_ like that.

After almost two hours of waiting impatiently in the sidelines, Merlin had had enough. He waited for Arthur to break away from the group of lords he had spent the past twenty minutes conversing with before making his way through the crowd to the King's side. Arthur seemed surprised to see him, as though he had forgotten Merlin was there in the first place.

"Having fun?" Merlin asked, barely bothering to disguise the sour tone in his voice.

Arthur grinned devilishly. "I take it you aren't?"

Merlin didn't reply.

"You're not jealous, are you?" The smirk was still in place, but a hint of genuine curiosity had entered Arthur's voice.

Merlin looked down at his feet and mumbled, "No."

Something warm closed around Merlin's hand. He felt Arthur lean in, barely repressing a shudder when his warm breath tickled Merlin's ear.

"Dance with me?"

Merlin's eyes widened. "Here? In front of all these people?"

Arthur nodded.

"But it wouldn't be proper -"

"I don't care."

The fierce determination in Arthur's eyes brought a lump to Merlin's throat. He nodded mutely and allowed Arthur to lead him amongst the swirling couples. The jolly song ended and a much slower, sweeter melody started up just as Arthur slid his arm around Merlin's waist. It was almost like he had planned the whole thing.

At first Merlin was very conscious of people watching them. He could almost hear their astonished voices and feel their judging eyes burning holes in his shirt. He tried to focus solely on Arthur and his strong, confident embrace, and gradually his self-consciousness was replaced by pure, sweet relief.

"I think several people were getting quite irritated that I wasn't listening to what they were saying," Arthur informed him conversationally. "I've been having a rather difficult time concentrating tonight."

"Why's that?"

Arthur regarded him as though he couldn't quite believe how dense he was, then he pulled Merlin even closer. They weren't quite dancing any more, but rather standing in one place and swaying to the music with their foreheads resting gently together. The other couples gave them a wide berth, and it felt like they were inside their own private bubble.

"Because of you, idiot."

Merlin's cheeks flared. He tried to look away, but Arthur's gaze seemed to fix him in place. He was very aware of the hand on the small of his back, and where his own hands rested just above Arthur's hips. Their chests were pressed together so that their hearts beat against one another, so fast that Merlin was sure they were going to explode. Every tiny movement either of them made brought their bodies into closer contact and sent minute shivers skittering down Merlin's spine. The proximity was enough to make him dizzy; this was the most intimate he and Arthur had ever been, far more intimate than any sexual encounters they had had. Being so close to the King caused a blur of images to tumble through his mind - images of things that he was almost embarrassed to think about with so many unsuspecting people so close by.

Merlin's fingers curled around handfuls of Arthur's tunic - that blasted blue tunic that had started this whole thing - and when he spoke his voice was rough with the effort of restraining himself. "Arthur, I can't wait any longer."

"Wait for what?" Arthur asked innocently. The sly curve of his mouth told Merlin he knew exactly what he was talking about.

"I don't care how expensive that shirt was, I'll tear it to shreds if I have to."

"Ah, you're forgetting the rules of the game. Whoever gives in last gets to do whatever they want to the person that gave in first," Arthur said smugly.

Merlin gritted his teeth. He twisted out of Arthur's arms and grabbed his hand, half dragging him towards the doors. "To hell with your game. I've spent the past two and a half hours watching at least fifteen different women flirt with you and my patience is currently non-existent."

Arthur chuckled. "That may be, but I'm still a lot stronger than you."

Merlin's eyes flashed gold as he glared over his shoulder at the smirking King. Arthur's smug expression wavered, and Merlin felt something tighten in his abdomen. He was going to enjoy this.


	21. Cooking or Baking

**Day 21: Baking**

**Rating: K+**

* * *

After years spent in Arthur's servitude, Merlin thought nothing could ever surprise him. The list of creatures he had battled in the name of the King was long and bizarre - he had even made friends with a dragon, for crying out loud. There was a limit to the things that one had to go through in order to truly be prepared for anything, and Merlin had been convinced he had seen it all. Until the day that he went down to the kitchens because he was feeling peckish, and found a broad, blond figure leaning over the counter and frowning at a piece of parchment.

Merlin stopped dead in his tracks, unable to do anything but stare until Arthur turned around. Arthur's expression of surprise perfectly mirrored Merlin's. He hurriedly scrunched the parchment in his fist and hid it behind his back, looking sheepish.

"Hello Merlin."

"Arthur." Merlin was shocked to find that his voice still worked - his throat felt completely dry. "W-What on _earth_ are you doing down here?"

"Really Merlin, it can't be that much of a shock to see me in a kitchen."

"Are you _joking? _Or do you not remember that time you offered to make dinner for Gwen, and ended up sending me back here to steal food because you had no idea how to cook it yourself?"

Arthur's cheeks flushed red to match his shirt. "That was a long time ago," he argued feebly.

Merlin scoffed, his eyes falling on the parchment Arthur still held behind his back. He made a grab for it, surprising Arthur so much with his quickness that the King didn't have time to react. Merlin scanned the lines of tiny, precise handwriting, his eyes growing wider with every word he read.

"Muffins?" he spluttered.

Arthur shushed him, his eyes moving rapidly from side to side as though he expected the cook to emerge from one of the cabinets. "It was going to be a surprise," he muttered sulkily.

"We can make them together?"

Arthur made a face. "Wouldn't that be a little -"

"A little what?" Merlin asked edgily.

"Strange?"

Merlin folded his arms. "Fine, make them yourself. Just don't come running to me when you set the place on fire."

He turned to leave, but Arthur caught his wrist. His eyes were wide and pleading, catching Merlin off guard. "I didn't mean that. Please stay."

Merlin smiled fondly. "Alright, but only because I'm concerned for your safety - as well as the rest of the people in the castle."

Instead of replying, Arthur reached into a sack of flour and smeared a handful of its contents over Merlin's face. Spluttering indignantly, Merlin grabbed his own handful of white powder and dumped it in Arthur's hair. Arthur simply raised his eyebrows and pointed out that Merlin would be the one to help him wash his hair that evening. The warlock sighed and pushed the recipe at him before wandering off in search of more ingredients.

As it turned out, their attempt at baking didn't go so badly. Arthur was pretty much hopeless at doing anything except stirring the batter, and the kitchen looked like a giant cake had exploded inside it, but the muffins smelled delicious. He slapped Arthur's hand when he tried to reach for one, and rolled his eyes when Arthur disobeyed and burned his fingers. A quick spell soon healed the abused flesh; a second banished the mess and left the room in a far better state than it had been in before.

"See?" said Arthur, looking at Merlin smugly.

"See what?"

"You enjoyed yourself, didn't you?"

"I never said I wouldn't."

Arthur snorted. "I'm not an idiot, Merlin. You didn't think I could cook."

"Well you _can't_," Merlin pointed out. "I did most of it, and anyway making cakes doesn't count as cooking. It's baking."

"Don't make me cover you in flour again."

Merlin laughed. "We haven't even got to the best bit yet." He took the plate of muffins from the counter and headed for the door. "Come on," he called over his shoulder. "Or do you want me to eat all these by myself?"

"If you _dare_ -"

Arthur never got to finish his threat. At that moment the cook appeared in the doorway brandishing a wooden spoon. Her hair was wild and frizzy and her square face set into a murderous expression. She didn't seem to care that it was the King standing in the middle of her kitchen - she had been cooking for Arthur since he was a child, and still remembered all those days she had caught him with his mouth full and his grubby hands all over her freshly baked bread. She had terrified Arthur then, and he was no less scared of her now. He caught hold of Merlin's coat and dragged him from the room with their precious cargo, the cook's angry voice echoing in his ears.


	22. In Battle, Side by Side

**Day 22: In Battle, Side by Side**

**Rating: K+**

* * *

Merlin had never expected things to come to this. Every riddle and prophecy Kilgarrah had spoken at him had been centred around Arthur 'uniting the land of Albion' - no one had ever said anything about what would happen after that. Merlin had been foolish enough to expect a quiet, peaceful life of standing by Arthur's side as he ruled over his hard-earned kingdom. He now realised what a grave mistake that had been, but it was already too late.

A gang of Saxons had crossed Camelot's borders two days previously. They had killed a group of Arthur's knights out on patrol, and Arthur had made the decision to meet them head on before they could come any closer to the citadel. He hated to think how many lives had been taken by the barbarians already - and how many of those had been under Arthur's protection. Merlin watched his friend sit in the throne room brooding over maps and battle strategies until he could barely stand it. This was Arthur's first challenge following his great victory, and he wasn't about to fail.

The site Arthur had chosen to ambush the Saxons was a large clearing with a high ridge at one end that curved around to the east, providing perfect cover for at least half of Arthur's army and the perfect leverage for the knights armed with crossbows. He organised the ranks with expert care and precision whilst Merlin stood by and tried to keep the admiration from showing in his expression.

As court sorcerer, Merlin had his own role to play. Originally Arthur had ordered him up onto the ridge with the bowmen, insisting, "You need to be where they can all see you," but Merlin was adamant in his refusal, and eventually Arthur gave up, allowing Merlin to take the position of honour at Arthur's right hand side.

Soon enough the enemy was sighted on the horizon. They advanced at a leisurely pace as though they anticipated the battle to be over very quickly. Arthur kept his eyes on them even as he gave out orders to his military commanders, telling them to hold their ground and wait. Merlin couldn't see how Arthur could be so calm - his shoulders were square and his chin set, and he didn't seem to have realised there was a chance they wouldn't make it out of this alive.

"Merlin, stop fidgeting," Arthur snapped, finally taking his eyes off the approaching soldiers.

"I have good reason to fidget!" Merlin replied incredulously.

"You're _supposed_ to be an all-powerful warlock," Arthur reminded him. "If the Saxons see you quaking in your boots you won't be much use to us at all."

"Well excuse me for being a little afraid because a horde of brutes are pointing sharp things at me."

"Don't be such a girl."

"Do you ever get tired of saying that?"

"Shut up."

Around them, the horses had begun to grow restless. They stamped their hooves and snorted, tugging the reins impatiently. Across the plain, the enemy had come to a halt. It seemed every pair of eyes was fixed on the blond King, waiting for him to make the first move.

Arthur drew in a breath. He had spent hours devising a strategy, he knew exactly how the battle was going to unfold, but he couldn't bring himself to give the signal until he had done one last thing. He turned to Merlin and took the warlock's trembling hands in his.

"You know nothing bad will happen to you, don't you?"

Merlin blinked, Arthur's earnest tone catching him off guard. "Um..."

Arthur's grip tightened. His blue eyes brimmed with something fierce that rendered Merlin barely able to look at him. "I'll protect you no matter what."

"I know," Merlin replied. He tried to smile, but his lips had begun to quiver. "I'll still be by your side when this is all over."

"Make sure you are."

Merlin nodded and Arthur abruptly dropped his hands. He turned to the captain on his left and nodded once. A cheer rose from the ranks and the rhythmic beating of spears on shields filled the air. The noise was pierced by a long, bellowing note from a horn, and the soldiers of Camelot charged.


	23. Arguing

**Day 23: Arguing**

**Rating: K+**

**A/N:** Sorry for the angst.

* * *

"You know what, Arthur Pendragon, I really don't know why I bother sometimes."

Arthur didn't look up from the scroll he was apparently immersed in. "Because you're my servant. It's your job."

Merlin threw his hands in the air. "You could at least _try_ to make my life easier!" He looked despairingly around the room. There were clothes thrown over furniture and dumped carelessly on the floor; the table was covered in bits of food from breakfast, and some of it had ended up under the chair. The bed looked as though it had been slept in by a bear held there against its will and the hearth was black with soot. Merlin had only cleaned up yesterday, for heaven's sake!

"You can just use magic to clear it up," Arthur drawled lazily.

"That's not the _point_!"

The King finally raised his head, regarding Merlin from beneath his fringe. He needed a haircut. "Then what is it you're getting so worked up about, pray tell?"

Grabbing fistfuls of his dark hair, Merlin began to pace back and forth between the bed and the door, repeatedly crossing Arthur's line of sight. The King followed him with his eyes but continued to look disinterested, which irked Merlin all the more.

"It's not the mess itself that's upsetting me," said Merlin finally. "It's the fact that you have so little respect for me and you're constantly taking me for granted. I'm not just your servant, Arthur. I'm your friend! "And -" He stopped pacing and turned on Arthur with pleading eyes. "And I thought I was even more than that."

Moments of silence stretched into eons and still Arthur didn't react. Merlin didn't expect him to fall at his feet and beg for forgiveness - the day that happened would be the day that Camelot's very walls came crumbling down - but the least Arthur could do was say _something_. Yet he just continued to sit there, gazing at Merlin as though he wasn't really there. Each second that passed was another needle point skewering Merlin's heart and he felt his eyes begin to fill with tears.

"I really thought you'd changed," he said quietly. Thankfully the tremble in his voice wasn't obvious. "I thought after all these years you'd grown up enough to be grateful for my friendship. I thought you lo -" His teeth clamped down on his bottom lip. What had he been about to say? That he thought Arthur loved him? That was ridiculous. The expression on Arthur's face was not the expression that someone should have when being confronted by the one they loved. Arthur looked almost... bored.

Under an onslaught of overwhelming emotions, Merlin could do little more than whisper, "I guess I was wrong" before turning on his heel and hurrying for the door. Just as he was about to leave, Arthur finally spoke up. His words were like a bucket of ice water dousing Merlin's insides.

"For all intents and purposes, Merlin, you are my servant. I would thank you to start behaving like one."

The door to Arthur's chambers slammed shut, and instantly its occupant's shoulders sagged. Arthur buried his face in his hands, breathing like a drowning man taking his last breaths before being dragged beneath crushing waves. Merlin was right: he was a prat. A selfish, arrogant prat who couldn't bear to have something good in his life without feeling the urge to test its limits - to push and push until it shattered like a glass bird in his fist.

_You're an idiot, Arthur Pendragon._


	24. Making Up Afterwards

**Day 24: Making Up Afterwards**

**Rating: K+**

* * *

Being the court physician, Gaius was used to being awoken by frantic knocking on his door during early hours of the morning. The last thing he would have expected, however, was to open the door and come face to face with a wild-eyed King. Arthur's hair stuck up on all sides like he'd been tossing and turning in bed, and dark circles shadowed his eyes and cheekbones. He stared at Gaius like he was surprised to see him - as though Gaius hadn't been living in those chambers since before Arthur was born.

"Is there something I can help you with, sire?" Gaius asked gently. He didn't want to raise his voice too much in case something in Arthur snapped - he looked on the verge of either exploding or crumbling into pieces.

"Is Merlin here?" Arthur's voice was as animated as his face - it undulated like the surface of a lake during a storm.

Gaius glanced behind him. There was no sign of movement behind the door to Merlin's room, but Gaius had a nagging feeling that Merlin was no longer asleep. If Arthur was here in the middle of the night and Merlin hadn't already come running, something was definitely wrong. Plus, the glint in Arthur's eyes was a little unnerving, and made Gaius do something he would never previously have dreamed of doing - he lied to the King.

"He didn't come home this evening," said the physician. "He must be in the tavern again."

Arthur braced an arm against the door frame and pushed a hand through his hair. "Don't lie to me, Gaius."

"Sire -"

But Arthur wasn't listening. The door behind them had cracked open and the faint glow of candlelight spilled out. Merlin stood silhouetted in the doorway, wrapped in a duvet and clutching a lamp. He looked half asleep, but closer inspection alerted Gaius to the shadows under his eyes that matched Arthur's. Merlin watched Arthur as though he might suddenly lunge at him, and Arthur watched Merlin as though he was seriously contemplating doing just that.

"Gaius." Arthur's voice was tight with strain. "Could you give us a moment of privacy?"

Gaius glanced at Merlin, but the warlock's face was unreadable. He gave a barely perceptible nod and turned abruptly, heading back towards his room with almost jerky movements. Arthur followed at a half-run, leaving Gaius standing where he was with his jaw almost brushing the floor.

Once he'd broken eye contact with Arthur, Merlin couldn't bring himself to look at him. He was highly strung and fidgety; he perched on the edge of Merlin's bed with as much enthusiasm as if it were made of hot coals. He folded his hands in his lap, then unfolded them and braced them against his knees, then shifted again and tapped his fingers against his thighs. This continued for a brief thirty seconds before Merlin dropped his head in his hands and Arthur stopped moving completely.

"Just tell me what you want and I'll do it," Merlin said tiredly.

"I -" Arthur took a deep breath. "I wanted to apologise."

Merlin's head jerked up so suddenly that the muscles in his neck screamed in protest. He was sure he'd heard wrong. Arthur _never_ apologised for anything. But his eyes were wide and full of a rare vulnerability that rendered Merlin unable to do anything but gape. Thankfully Arthur seemed to need no encouragement to continue.

"I know what I said earlier was... well it was unforgivable. But, well, I came to ask you to do just that."

Merlin blinked in disbelief. "You - what?"

"Don't make me say it again."

"Say what again?"

"My apology."

"That wasn't an apology."

Arthur groaned. "You know I can't do this kind of thing, Merlin. Emotions are for girls."

"I see."

"Oh don't be like that."

"What do you expect after what you said this morning? Do you have _any_ idea how much that hurt?"

"I didn't mean any of it," Arthur mumbled, hanging his head.

"Then why did you say it? You acted like you didn't care about me at all!"

"Merlin..."

"What was I supposed to think? I was convinced I'd done something to upset you, or that you'd suddenly realised how weird this whole thing is, or worse that you never cared about me in the first place!"

Merlin could count on one hand the amount of times he had seen Arthur speechless. Under any other circumstances it might have been a welcome relief, but as the situation stood it only served to make Merlin feel guilty. He wanted to kick himself - why should he feel guilty when Arthur was the one who'd been a complete and total clotpole?

Against his better judgement, Merlin reached over and took Arthur's hand. The contact seemed to snap Arthur back to reality; he was now gazing at Merlin with something like hope in his blue eyes. Merlin's willpower wasn't the strongest at the best of times, but when it came to Arthur and those stupid angelic eyes of his, Merlin didn't stand a chance.

"Look, I'm not saying I'm going to forgive you right away," said Merlin. He began to play with Arthur's fingers as a natural reflex to having his hands inside Merlin's own. "And I'm expecting a written apology. And at least three days off, and -"

"Merlin."

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

By the light of the flickering candle, Arthur's face was a dancing contrast of black and orange. His smile was hesitant, almost shy. The expression seemed out of place, but at the same time Merlin was relieved to see it.

"Oh and Merlin?"

"Mm?"

"I love you."


	25. Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes

**Day 25: Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes**

**Rating: K+**

* * *

When Merlin first met Arthur, he got the impression of a tall, blond, loud-mouthed prat with shoulders that appeared too broad to fit through doorways. He had been too preoccupied with what was coming out of Arthur's mouth and the deadly weapon swinging from his hand to notice anything else. Then as Arthur's bodyguards grabbed Merlin's arms for the second time, the Prince had stepped into Merlin's personal space and suddenly nothing else existed. There was just Arthur's pale skin and straight nose and bright blue eyes.

Gods, those _eyes_.

Merlin had never thought himself much of a romantic. The girls back in Ealdor were nice enough and there were a couple that could be considered pretty, but none of them had really stood out. They were good-looking in an ordinary, tame sense, and Merlin had never noticed anything particularly extraordinary about them. But ever since he had first laid eyes on Arthur Pendragon, he couldn't get those godforsaken eyes out of his mind.

During the first few months of being Arthur's manservant, Merlin was subjected to many a glare from the crown prince. Arthur's eyebrows would either raise with disbelief at Merlin's incompetence, or pull together over his nose in anger for the same reason. His eyes would fill with something that Merlin couldn't place - beneath the annoyance and incredulity was something akin to puzzlement. Within those moments, Arthur's words would always come back: "There's something about you, Merlin. I can't quite put my finger on it."

As their relationship progressed, Arthur's default expression for when his gaze fell on Merlin changed too, if only subtly. The confusion always remained, and Merlin grew to expect it. It was only obvious to anyone who knew to look for it. Some part of Merlin shared Arthur's bewilderment; how could someone like Arthur find someone like him so difficult to figure out? It was as though Merlin's face was covered in words of an ancient and forgotten language that Arthur should be able to read, but couldn't. Merlin began to suspect that Arthur could somehow sense the magic that coursed through Merlin's veins, but then he reminded himself that this was _Arthur._ He may be a brilliant knight and military leader, but he was as thick as a plank of wood when it came to other people.

After he kissed Merlin for the first time, Arthur wasn't ashamed to stare into his eyes for eons at a time. Merlin came to realise that Arthur's eyes were windows: When he let his walls down, Merlin could see every little thought and emotion going through Arthur's mind. His eyes would subtly change colour according to his mood - when he was angry, they were like crashing waves tossed up by a storm. When he was happy, they were the soft, lazy blue of the midsummer sky. But whatever he was feeling, that same untraceable spark lingered. Merlin drove himself crazy trying to place it, until the day the pieces finally slotted themselves into place.

Arthur wore a dreamy smile, an expression that any other person would deem uncharacteristic for the King, but Merlin was the only one who knew otherwise. His left arm was tucked under his head, his golden hair splayed across the pillow. His eyes were half-lidded and sleepy, but still managed to give Merlin butterflies. The flickering candlelight made them shimmer like the wings of a dragonfly, and the blue of the irises was as intense as cut sapphire.

"Arthur?"

"Mm?"

The husky edge to Arthur's voice made Merlin shiver. "Your eyes are beautiful."

As soon as the words left his mouth Merlin wanted to snatch them back. He turned his face into the pillow, feeling like a blushing teenager with a crush. Arthur's fingers were cool despite the warmth of the room; he gently took Merlin's chin and turned his head, forcing the warlock to look at him. And suddenly Merlin understood. The nameless curiosity in Arthur's eyes was nothing more than pure, uncomplicated fascination. Merlin could practically feel his skin flushing red with the realisation, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. Arthur's eyes hypnotised him; the silver in them glittered like moonlight on the surface of a lake.

Merlin expected Arthur to laugh and tell him not to be a girl, but instead Arthur simply smiled and said, "Not as beautiful as yours. Now go to sleep."


	26. Getting Married

**Day 26: Getting Married**

**Rating: K+**

**A/N:** This looked so cute in my head. I hope you guys agree :)

* * *

It was mid-October and the days had begun to turn grey; a cold wind blew into Camelot from the North, whipping up red and orange cyclones in the streets. There was no one outside, which was very unusual even for a brisk day like this. Merchants and travellers heading for the front gates were greeted by a pair of guards who told them to bring their wares back the following day - there would be no one around to invite them inside or offer them business. Every inhabitant of the citadel was gathered in the castle courtyard, filling up every nook and cranny with their numbers. Many had been there since early that morning, eagerly awaiting the appearance of the King and his new bride.

Inside, the castle was just as eerily deserted as the lower town. The servants had been given the day off and were waiting out in the chill air with their families. If one was to enter the castle through the heavy oak doors, one would be guided through Camelot's corridors by the faint blast of trumpets and a great conundrum of voices. Following the noise, one would eventually find oneself in the castle's Great Hall, where the wedding ceremony of King Arthur Pendragon was being held. The room was awash with a sea of red and gold; every single one of Arthur's knights was present, standing tall and proud in their chainmail and bright cloaks emblazoned with the golden dragon. Amongst the knights was a whole array of other guests: lords, ladies and bishops come to Camelot from all over the land to celebrate this momentous occasion. Who is she? they all wanted to know. Who is this magnificent princess that has captured the heart of the glorious King Arthur of Camelot?

"Have you met her?"

"No, but I hear Arthur is completely smitten, so she must be wonderful."

"Where is she from?"

"Some small kingdom away to the west, apparently."

"I wonder how they met?"

And so the questions went on. Of course, none of them could ever be prepared for the shock that was in store. In the front row of the crowd, Sir Gwaine and Sir Percival exchanged a knowing look. As they did so, the doors were opened and a tremendous cheer almost shattered the stained glass windows. The King had arrived, dressed in the traditional colours of his kingdom and looking as pure and radiant as a sunbeam as he made his way down the red-carpeted aisle.

When he passed Percival and Gwaine, the pair offered him matching grins before making their bows. As far as the rest of the guests were concerned, Arthur appeared utterly calm and controlled. However, to those who knew him well, the King was a bundle of nerves. Gwaine, Percival, Leon and Gaius all noticed the slight tremor in Arthur's fingers, and the way the light reflected off his forehead a little too brightly. But Arthur's infamous smirk was still in place, and after all he had a right to be nervous.

The level of anticipation in the room rose unbearably as Arthur took his place in front of the pair of thrones. The questions had now shifted topic to the nature of the bride's dress - material, pattern, length and other such trivial things. The murmurings were all a vague buzzing to Arthur; his eyes were focussed intently on the doors. If he allowed his mind to wander too much, the doubts would start to raise their ugly heads.

How would the crowd react when they saw who Arthur was marrying? Would they be confused? Disgusted? Would they laugh in Arthur's face? And what of his people? Would they think differently of him for not choosing a Queen of royal blood?

These thoughts had plagued Arthur ever since he had first fallen in love, but then he would look at the one who had awoken those feelings in him and every voice inside his head would instantly fall silent. This was what he wanted. He would have no one else for a spouse, and if people couldn't accept that then he would happily step down and leave Camelot forever, just so long as he could spend the rest of his life with the one he loved.

A trumpeting fanfare startled Arthur out of his thoughts. All heads turned towards the entrance just as the doors were pushed open for the second time. The murmurs rose to a deafening crescendo that the trumpets could barely drown out. Then, all at once, every single voice in the room fell silent. Time seemed to freeze. No one spoke, no one moved, no one even breathed as the new arrival began to make their way slowly down the middle of the room. The light from the windows caught his dark hair and set his deep blue eyes on fire. His pale skin seemed to glow; white but for the delicate hints of rose dusted along his angular cheekbones. He was dressed all in silver and black, the complete opposite to Arthur, and in his hands he clutched a small bouquet of pink roses.

As Merlin climbed the trio of steps to join Arthur, the whispering started again. Neither of them could tell what was being said, nor even the general tone of the fresh questions that were being asked - all either of them could see was the other, and everything else faded into a background of hazy grey shapes and words that sounded like they were being spoken underwater. Arthur held out his hand and Merlin gladly took it with a smile that turned Arthur's blood to pure light. Every negative thought and niggling doubt instantly vanished: This was what he wanted. Merlin was what he wanted and he couldn't have cared less about anything else.

For Arthur, the ceremony passed in a blissful blur. As far as he was concerned, he and Merlin were the only two people in the entire room. He didn't let go of Merlin's hand, and when they turned to face the crowd, he raised their joined hands in triumph. There was a heartbeat of complete stillness, then the room erupted with cheers. Everyone surged to their feet in one graceful, fluid movement, clapping and laughing in perfect unison. The applause seemed to go on forever, and it only grew louder until it seemed the sheer force of the commotion would lift the roof right off.

Arthur's face ached from grinning and he knew he must look completely deranged, but deranged was exactly how he felt as he turned to Merlin and swept the startled warlock into his arms. Merlin's eyes were sparkling and his expression was one of shameless joy. Arthur felt his heart sprout wings as he and Merlin sealed their marriage with the first kiss of millions to come.


	27. On One of Their Birthdays

**Day 27: On One of Their Birthdays**

**Rating: T for slight suggestiveness**

* * *

"I don't need you today, Merlin."

Merlin stopped in his tracks. It was a little after dawn and he had walked into Arthur's chambers with the intention of rousing the King and helping him prepare for the day, only to find that Arthur was not only fully dressed but had taken the liberty of fetching his own breakfast from the kitchens. Perhaps Merlin would have been a little less surprised had it not been for the fact that Arthur was petrified of the cook. What was more, there was enough food laid out on Arthur's table to feed half the Knights of Camelot.

"Are - are you feeling alright, sire?" Merlin stuttered, gaping at the spread and the amused king standing opposite him.

"Perfectly alright," Arthur replied, flashing his infamous smirk. "And how many times have I told you not to use my title when we talk in private?"

"Sorry. Arthur."

Arthur waved away the apology. "Anyway, as I was saying, I'm giving you the day off. Won't you join me for breakfast?"

Merlin did as he was told, only remembering to close his mouth when he'd taken the seat opposite Arthur. It fell right open again when Arthur placed a plate loaded with food before him as though he were the king and Arthur the servant.

"What's gotten into you today?" Merlin asked, beginning to feel genuine concern about Arthur's health. "Do I need to fetch Gaius?"

Arthur cocked his head to one side. "You really don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

"Perhaps I _am_ working you too hard," Arthur muttered, more to himself than to Merlin. "It's your birthday, idiot."

Merlin blinked, mentally counting the days. Arthur watched him calmly as he checked and rechecked the maths, but in the end Merlin couldn't deny that the King was perfectly correct. It _was_ his birthday.

"Okay," Merlin conceded. "I believe you. But I don't want you to make a fuss or anything, I don't mind carrying out my duties as normal..."

Arthur held up his hand, effectively silencing his manservant before he started babbling. "No Merlin. You're my friend first, my servant second. I want to make sure you're treated as you should be. Besides, I want you to open your present."

"Oh Arthur, you didn't have to -"

"Shut up."

Before Merlin could say anything else, Arthur got to his feet and crossed the room to his bedside cabinet. He rummaged around for a few moments before returning triumphantly to the table holding a small parcel wrapped in red cloth and tied with gold thread. He held it out with a gleeful smile, clearly excited about watching Merlin unwrap his gift. As Merlin took it from him he noted that the wrapping was far too neat for Arthur to have done it himself. The parcel felt squishy and made no noise when Merlin shook it. He looked up at Arthur, who appeared to be growing impatient. With a quiet chuckle, Merlin began to carefully unpick the wrappings.

"You've got to be joking!" Arthur exclaimed despairingly. "Just open it, will you?"

Merlin shook his head, taking secret delight in Arthur's exasperation. "Unlike you Arthur, I don't go charging at things like a demented ox. Be patient."

If Arthur picked up on the insult, he didn't make a comment - he was too focussed on the package in Merlin's hands. Eventually Merlin unfolded the red cloth to reveal a square of blue silk that felt cool to the touch. He gently picked it up, turning it over in his fingers. It was a neckerchief, almost the exact shade of blue as Merlin's eyes, and in one corner there was a tiny 'M' embroidered with gold thread.

Arthur's eyes glittered expectantly as Merlin examined the scarf. He was careful not to show any emotion, just to keep Arthur on the edge for a little while longer. Eventually he broke into a smile, but only because Arthur was dangerously close to falling off his chair.

"Do you like it?" he asked hopefully.

Merlin ran his finger delicately over the initial and grinned. "Of course I do."

"Put it on then."

Merlin did as he was told. The material felt smooth and sleek against his skin, and judging by the look on Arthur's face it suited him relatively well. He felt his jaw begin to ache from smiling, and his heart was slowly melting into a puddle of happy goo.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Arthur shook his head. "Don't thank me yet. I've got a whole day planned out for us - well, for you, but I assumed you'd want to spend your birthday with me."

"Naturally."

"Good. I've had the kitchens prepare us a picnic so we can go for a ride in the woods, but first there's something else I want to give you." He raised one eyebrow suggestively, and Merlin instantly knew exactly what he meant. However he decided to play dumb, just because it was fun to annoy Arthur and today he could get away with anything.

"Oh? What might that be?" he asked innocently.

The eyebrow rose higher, and Arthur made an unsubtle gesture at the bed behind him. Merlin continued to look puzzled, and Arthur threw his hands in the air. "For heaven's sake, Merlin, I'm not going to just come right out and say it!"

"Why not?"

Arthur glared at him. "Merlin. Bed. Now."

"Alright, there's no need to shout. And I thought you weren't going to boss me around today?"

"Irregardless, you're going to pay for your cheek."


	28. Doing Something Ridiculous

**Day 28: Doing Something Ridiculous**

**Rating: K+**

* * *

"Do I _have_ to?"

"Yes. I told you what would happen if you disobeyed and yet you did so anyway. This is your punishment."

"I would prefer the stocks," Merlin muttered, fidgeting with the hem of the tunic he was unjustly being forced to wear. "Can't I go in the stocks instead? I miss my fans."

Arthur chuckled. "As entertaining as that would be, _Mer_lin, this is the punishment I threatened you with. I would hardly be a fair King if I didn't follow through with my threats, would I?"

Pouting, Merlin turned to examine himself in the mirror for the umpteenth time. The outfit was brightly coloured enough to blind any innocent passer-by who so much as glanced at him out of the corner of their eye: bright yellow tunic, orange breeches, ridiculous shoes with curled toes and, worst of all, the hat. It wasn't just any old hat, no, this was _the_ hat that haunted Merlin's darkest nightmares. He had hoped he would never have to lay eyes on the dauntingly oversized multicoloured feathers ever again. In fact it had been so long since his first encounter with it that he was sure Arthur had thrown it out, but apparently he had been saving it for such an occasion as making Merlin pay for his cheek.

"I think you look very handsome," Arthur remarked. He managed to keep a straight face for all of two seconds after the words left his mouth; he hurriedly turned the snort of laughter that followed into an unconvincing cough. "Really," he said, clearing his throat. "You look absolutely -"

"Ridiculous?" Merlin suggested. He was past feeling annoyed at Arthur and his stupid grinning face; really he just wanted to get this over with so he could crawl into bed and hibernate for a few months - at least until the giggles had stopped echoing in his ears.

"This will teach you to keep that insolent mouth of yours closed in future." Arthur grabbed the sleeve of Merlin's tunic and pushed him out into the corridor. "Off you go, and don't even think about running away. I'll be watching."

Merlin heaved a dramatic sigh. He tried pulling his best puppy-eyes one last time, but Arthur merely tapped the end of his nose and shoved him further out of the room. The feathers flapped annoyingly around Merlin's head when he moved, and by the time he made it to Camelot's front doors he had already been laughed at by six passing maids and a couple of guards. Thankfully the sun wasn't shining too brightly so the danger of blinding pedestrians was lessened, but that also meant they had a clearer view of him as he made his way cautiously down the steps, almost tripping on his shoes several times. He glanced beseechingly up at Arthur's window, knowing that Arthur would be observing his every move. A thousand and one spells went round in his head as he set off; he would find a way to make Arthur pay for this.


	29. Doing Something Sweet

**Day 29: Doing Something Sweet**

**Rating: K+**

* * *

"Merlin what are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Whenever you say that it makes me more suspicious."

"Well this time I'm really not doing anything."

"I can believe that."

"Hey!"

Arthur sidled further into the room, closing the door behind him. Rain was coming down in sheets that turned the outside world into a blurry mishmash of varying shades of grey. The wind was icy and numbed every inch of exposed skin within a few seconds of stepping outside. Arthur usually hated to cancel training sessions, but even he had to admit there was no point in letting his knights freeze to death when they couldn't even see where they were pointing their swords.

Defeated by the weather, Arthur had wandered glumly back to his chambers, hoping to make use of his free time by sorting through some paperwork. He had opened the door to find a fire blazing in the hearth and a dark-haired warlock sat at his desk. Merlin was tapping the end of a quill against his lips and had been immersed in deep thought until Arthur's entrance had startled him into almost falling off the chair.

"I've never seen you with a quill in your hand before," Arthur observed. He took a slow step towards the desk, smirking when Merlin tried to cover the parchment he'd been writing on with his body. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Merlin insisted, plastering a nonchalant grin on his face that Arthur saw right through. "Really, it's nothing."

"_Mer_lin."

Arthur was within grabbing distance of the parchment. He kept his gaze fixed intensely on Merlin's so that the warlock wouldn't see what he was about to do, but approximately half a second later he realised he should have known better. Merlin's blue eyes flashed gold and the parchment burst into flames. Arthur yelped in surprise and jumped back, but the flames had already gone out, leaving the desk and surrounding pieces of parchment completely unmarked.

"I hope you're satisfied," Merlin huffed. "I'll have to start again now."

"Start _what_ again?" Arthur demanded.

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "You want to know that badly?"

"_Yes_!"

Merlin raised his hands in surrender. "Fine. I was writing a letter."

"A letter?"

"Yes Arthur. You see, one person writes words on a piece of paper and -"

"I _know_ what a letter is, idiot."

"Just checking. You never know."

The King made a half-hearted attempt to swat the back of Merlin's head, which Merlin dodged easily. "Why were you writing a letter? And to whom?"

"You're very nosey."

"I have a right to know."

"But it'll ruin the surprise."

"What surprise?"

"Which question do you want me to answer first?"

"_Merlin!_"

"Fine! If you must know, I was writing a letter to _you_. In case you'd forgotten, it's our wedding anniversary next week and I wanted to give you something special as a present, because I hardly think flowers and confectionery are fitting for a King, much less _you_. There, are you happy now?"

Arthur seemed genuinely lost for words as he processed what Merlin had just said. Or rather shouted. As a matter of fact he _hadn't_ forgotten about their anniversary - in fact he had been fretting for weeks over what to get for Merlin, and what they were going to spend the day doing. He wanted it to be special, just as Merlin did. He reached for the warlock and pulled him into a hug, feeling relief blossom in his chest when Merlin buried his nose in the side of his neck.

"Sorry for being a prat," he murmured.

Merlin exhaled in a way that could be taken as laughter. "It's okay. Sorry for overreacting."

Arthur pulled back and held Merlin at arm's length. He was suddenly very curious about what Merlin could possibly want to put in a letter that he couldn't say out loud, and then he realised that there were enough things he himself wanted to tell Merlin that he would be mortified to put into verbal words. But handwritten words were different, and somehow much more intimate.

"What're you staring at?" asked Merlin.

"I was just thinking about how I've always wanted to know what's going on inside that pretty head of yours," Arthur replied. He took silent delight in Merlin's blush, lifting his fingers to gently touch the rosy skin. "If you write me a letter for our anniversary, I'll write you one back, and we can both read them over a candlelit dinner for two. How does that sound?"

Merlin smirked. "It sounds like the cheesiest date in the world," he said. "But because it's you, it sounds perfect."


	30. Doing Something Hot

**Day 30: Doing Something Hot**

**Rating: **T

**Very long A/N:** This is the last one! I'm not sure whether to be sad or relieved. However I am very proud of myself because I've posted a chapter a day without fail, and for me that's something that's not easy to do. So allow me a brief moment to congratulate myself. Go me!

More importantly, you guys have been incredibly awesome and supportive. I really didn't expect this much feedback. So to each and every one of you who has read, reviewed and favourited, especially the regular reviewers and those of you who have been reading from the start, thank you so much!

PS This one turned out a little steamy, so sorry if it's a bit much for any of you. But I suppose you could guess what it would involve from the title. Enjoy my lovelies, 'til next time!

* * *

Merlin hated giving Arthur a bath. He never seems to get especially dirty, which was surprising considering how fond he was of activities that involved rolling around in mud. He did get sweaty rather easily, but somehow that only made him look - and smell - more masculine. His body wasn't unpleasant to look at - quite the opposite. But it was for these reasons that helping Arthur bathe was such an arduous task for Merlin. He would even prefer to muck out the stables, and _that _was saying something.

"Come on Merlin, we haven't got all night."

Pushing his fringe out of his eyes, Merlin emptied the last bucket of water into the tub. He could sense the smirk on Arthur's face without having to look at him.

"Why don't you just use magic to fill it?" Arthur asked curiously. He was sat on the end of the bed wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist. Merlin couldn't even look in his general direction without feeling his cheeks heat up, much to Arthur's amusement.

"I can't just conjure that much water out of thin air," Merlin replied wearily. He was starting to feel tired just thinking about what he would have to go through in the next hour or so, but also marginally excited.

_Get a grip,_ he thought to himself. Behind him, Arthur cleared his throat. Merlin took the hint and let his magic rise to the surface of his skin, feeling it dance delightedly along his fingers. Gold tinted his vision and steam began to rise from the water. He put his hand in and swirled it around to test the temperature, though he already knew it would be perfect.

When he turned around Arthur had already shed the towel, and despite himself Merlin couldn't help but stare. His eyes followed the jut of Arthur's collarbone, down over miles of tanned skin to the dips and ridges of his abdomen, where a line of golden hair trailed from his navel down to...

"Merlin." Arthur wasn't even trying to hide the smirk now. Merlin turned away abruptly and busied himself with folding towels, his cheeks burning hotter than the flames of the candles he had taken the liberty of placing around the dim room.

The water sloshed gently as Arthur lowered himself into the bath. Merlin closed his eyes and counted to ten, partly to calm his racing heart and partly to stop himself from making a dash for the door. He took a peek over his shoulder and was relieved to see Arthur neck-deep in steamy water, leaving no possible distractions visible. Deeming it safe, Merlin grabbed a bar of soap and slid off his shoes before hopping up to sit on the side of the tub. Arthur's eyes were closed, his face a smooth expression of peace. It made a nice change from the crease that had taken up residence between his eyebrows of late. The flickering light of the candles drew Merlin's attention to the dark circles lurking beneath his eyes.

Those eyes slid open before Merlin had a chance to look away. Arthur tilted his head to one side, a smile playing on the corners of his mouth. That was the kind of look he used to impress ladies of the court, and it never failed to leave them all in a swooning heap. Apparently Merlin was no different; his pulse leapt forward like a charging horse and his breath caught somewhere in the back of his throat.

"Something wrong?" Arthur asked innocently, though the rough edge to his voice wasn't lost on Merlin. He was playing with him on purpose, and Merlin would be damned if he let himself get dragged along for the ride.

"Not at all," he said brightly, shifting position so he was more comfortable. His legs were now on either side of Arthur, spread wide apart to avoid accidentally brushing him with his feet.

Merlin started to rub the soap over Arthur's shoulders, feeling the muscles relax and loosen as he worked his fingers right into the knots. At first Arthur was completely still, then as Merlin began work on his neck he turned his head to give him better access. His eyes were closed again, and his pale lashes quivered. He was making tiny humming noises in the back of his throat, and whether they were purposeful or not Merlin's stomach responded with nervous little flips. His fingers began to tremble and still Arthur remained completely oblivious, or so it seemed.

"Lean forward," Merlin commanded. He was pleased when his voice came out steady.

Arthur did as he was told without a word, and Merlin was greeted by yet more golden skin that he wasted no time in running his hands over, still retaining the pretence of massaging the tension out of the muscle. He was momentarily distracted by Arthur's shoulder blades, and when he came back to the present he realised his hands had stopped moving and were now resting just above Arthur's waist. He hurriedly resumed his movements, but not before Arthur noticed they had stopped. He twisted round in the water, fixing Merlin with an intense stare that he could look away from no matter how much he wanted to.

When Arthur spoke his name, the single word was filled with so much need that Merlin's whole body froze. He found himself unable to resist Arthur's arms wrapping around his waist and before he knew it they were both completely submerged. They broke the surface a second later, and Merlin barely had time to draw breath before Arthur's mouth fastened onto his. Merlin's limbs were jolted into action by Arthur's fingers tugging at the hem of his soaked shirt; he helped him wrestle it off and the sensation of Arthur's bare chest pressing into his made his head feel light.

Arthur, meanwhile, was immediately distracted by the expanse of pale skin that was now being offered to him. He attacked Merlin's neck with his lips and teeth, tearing off the idiotic neckerchief and tossing it into a far corner of the room. Merlin's squeak of protest turned into a moan as Arthur's fingers began to tease their way down his chest. His other arm found Merlin's waist again and yanked him forwards until he was straddling Arthur's hips, bringing vital places into contact and banishing the last remaining coherent thought from Merlin's mind.

"Why does this always happen?" Arthur questioned him playfully, taking a break from his assault of Merlin's pulse point to bring his lips close to Merlin's ear. The sensation of hot breath on one of his most sensitive spots made Merlin shiver violently despite the heat of the water.

"Maybe because you're a shameless tease," Merlin growled. He braced his hands against Arthur's chest, pushing him back so he could get a lungful of fresh air.

"_I'm _the tease?" Arthur repeated. "You're the one who was being unnecessarily touchy-feely."

"Didn't see you complaining," Merlin huffed.

Arthur looked at him for a moment, an unreadable expression on his flushed face. Merlin counted five frantic beats of his heart before Arthur got to his feet, extending his hand to help Merlin do the same.

"Bath time's over," he said in a low voice. "Bed. Now."

Merlin was only too happy to oblige.


	31. Extra Fic: Letters

**A/N:** A few of you requested I do an extra little fic as a continuation of Chapter 29 (Doing Something Sweet) so you guys could see what was in the letters that Merlin and Arthur wrote to each other. Well, here it is! I hope it's the sort of thing you had in mind. Enjoy!

* * *

**Letters**

As it turned out, the day Arthur had planned for his and Merlin's anniversary didn't quite go to plan. The previous day two members of the council had approached Arthur clutching armfuls of scrolls and proclaiming several problems had arisen concerning matters of state. They had practically begged Arthur to summon the rest of the board so that these setbacks could be fixed right away. Looking over their balding heads and lined faces, Arthur had almost scoffed at the unorthodoxy of a king being told how to organise his own kingdom. He had been about to reprimand the two men and threaten them with the stocks when a voice that sounded suspiciously like Merlin's spoke up in the back of his mind: _Don't be a prat, these men are here to _help_ you_.

With an inward sigh and no small amount of reluctance Arthur had conceded to summon the council the following day, praying to whatever god would listen that the meeting wouldn't last long enough to impact his original plans.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. The meeting dragged on for hours. Arthur spent the first two and a half trying desperately to concentrate on what was being said, but council members were by no means the most engaging speakers. Soon words began to blur together until nothing but meaningless noise reached Arthur's ears. He was reminded of his preadolescent years and the lessons Uther had forced him to take; Arthur was never very academic and those hours had seemed like the longest of his life. He could feel himself physically aging and still the meeting was coming no closer to a conclusion. With each passing second he grew more frustrated, but he couldn't very well get up and leave or cut the meeting short – what kind of king would that make him?

Still, how would Merlin feel if they didn't get to spend any time together on their anniversary? The thought sent a jolt of unbearable guilt through Arthur's heart, piercing it like an arrow. He shook his head as though he could physically push the image of Merlin's dejected expression from his mind. He would understand, wouldn't he? It wasn't as though any of this was Arthur's fault. Besides, they would see each other the next day – Arthur would make it up to him then.

No, today was their anniversary. It didn't matter how important this meeting was, it could wait. Merlin, however, could not.

Arthur rose from his chair, meeting the startled gazes of the board members with his best authoritative stare. They seemed taken aback when he excused himself and a couple of them tried to protest, but Arthur's patience was already too worn for him to do anything except make for the door at the fastest pace he could manage without running. He didn't break his pace until he reached his chambers; a sigh of relief escaped his lips as the door closed safely behind him. He looked around for Merlin, feeling a brief flutter of panic when he failed to locate him. Seconds later he realised Merlin must have sought some company and gone to visit Gaius. The empty room was bathed in shades of rose and ginger and even in the dim lighting everything looked utterly spotless. Arthur's gut twisted uncomfortably; Merlin had done all this for him despite being relieved of his servitude and Arthur hadn't even made an effort to see him. Well, that was about to change.

He walked over to his desk - which was flawlessly neat and nowhere close to the state in which he usually left it – to retrieve an envelope from the top drawer. He always kept the drawer locked and the key on his person at all times lest Merlin be curious enough to rifle through his private personal effects. Of course no lock was any match for a sorcerer, but Arthur knew that Merlin respected his privacy enough to leave a locked drawer well alone.

Sure enough, the contents of the drawer were exactly as he had left them, with the envelope sitting patiently on top of the pile. He pulled it out carefully, letting it balance between his thumbs and forefingers rather than holding it, making sure he didn't put even the slightest crease on the delicate parchment. He placed it on the desk and closed the drawer. As he did so, something on the desk caught his eye. It was a piece of folded parchment marked with an unfamiliar script spelling out Arthur's name.

Arthur's heart leaped into his throat. "Could this be Merlin's letter?" he asked himself out loud. "Perhaps he left it here because he thought he wouldn't get the chance to give it to me in person…" He picked it up and turned it over. There was no seal, instead the letter was held closed by a strand of ivy weaved into the parchment like thread – it was clear no human hand had accomplished such a precise and complicated feat. For a few moments Arthur simply stared; his vision began to blur and he shook his head in annoyance. He hadn't even opened the thing yet!

Arthur's suspicions of magic were confirmed as soon as he touched the ivy – the plant instantly retracted and unravelled itself from the parchment. It glided across the back of Arthur's hand and circled itself around his wrist like a bracelet. Smiling at the touch, Arthur carefully unfolded the letter. Although he had never seen Merlin's handwriting before, the messy, slanted script marking the parchment in perfect even lines couldn't have belonged to anyone else. Taking a deep breath, Arthur began to read.

_My darling Arthur,_

_I have written this letter countless times already in the hope of finding the right words, but with each attempt I have found myself more and more helpless. I thought that writing to you like this would finally allow me to tell you how I feel, but it would seem there are no words in this language, or in any language of the creatures I have encountered over the years, that can express the complexity of my emotions. However, at the risk of sounding like a fool (as usual), I'll do my best anyway._

_When we first met I thought you were the rudest, most selfish obnoxious prat I had ever encountered. I know I've told you this countless times, but now I'm writing it down you have no choice but to pay attention. Kilgarrah used to tell me that we were two sides of the same coin and for a long time I didn't know what he meant. Now, after being married to you for an entire year (and saving your life more times than I can count), I think I finally understand._

_To put it bluntly, you complete me. I realise how ridiculous and cheesy that sounds but you'll just have to deal with it – it's the only way I can phrase it. I never felt like I belonged anywhere or had a purpose until I found you. All of a sudden you were everywhere – I couldn't get away. You dominated my every thought – I was either risking my life for you or hating you with a ferocity I had never experienced before. But despite your flaws (and you _do_ have flaws), you are the bravest, most noble, selfless prat I have ever met and I don't know what I would be without you._

_I realise that even after many attempts at writing this letter my words sound a little flat, but I hope that over the course of many more years together I can begin to show you just how much you mean to me. The rings we wear on our fingers will tarnish, but their meaning never will._

_Happy anniversary, my love._

Arthur stared at the six letters signed at the bottom of the page as his brain took a minute to process what his eyes were seeing. There was a dull pain in his chest but at the same time he felt as light as breath of air. He read the letter over and over until his eyes were so full of moisture that some spilled over onto his cheeks. It wasn't the most elaborate or romantic letter he had ever received, but it meant a thousand times more to him than every other combined. It certainly made his own letter to Merlin seem silly, but there was no time to write another and he had already kept Merlin waiting for long enough.

* * *

A knock on the court physician's door at such a late hour was not a rare occurrence, and nor was Gaius surprised to find the King standing on the other side of it. Without a word the old man ushered Arthur inside, waving his hand towards the far corner where the dark-haired warlock was crushing herbs with a pestle and mortar. His face split into an endearingly lopsided grin as Arthur stood awkwardly in the centre of the room. He put the tools carefully down on the workbench and practically threw himself into Arthur's arms, apparently undeterred by the King's untimely absence. Arthur buried his nose in the curve of Merlin's shoulder and clutched his skinny frame tightly, hoping to convey through his embrace just how sorry he was. Relief washed through him as he felt Merlin's arms squeeze him just as tightly.

After a long moment Arthur suddenly remembered Merlin's anniversary gift. The envelope was slightly crumpled as a result of their affectionate greeting but Merlin didn't seem to notice as he gently lifted the seal. Arthur knew the contents of the letter by heart; he watched Merlin's lips silently move around the words as he read them.

_Merlin,_

_You know as well as I do that I'm not a man who is good with words, especially when it comes to talking about my feelings, so I hope you won't be too disappointed with the shortness of this letter._

_As I am writing I can see you fast asleep in our bed. You look like an angel – to be honest I've always thought so, despite the number of times I've made fun of you. I hope you don't wake up before I return and think I have left you, because that is something I will never do. You'll never hear me say this out loud, but I have come to rely on your presence like I need it to simply survive. When I look back on the years we have spent together – as lovers, as friends, as a prince and his servant – I find myself almost overwhelmed with how much you have changed me. You are the pillar that this kingdom leans on, though you have no idea of it. Without you I am fairly certain I wouldn't even be alive. Camelot is in your debt, as am I. _

_Don't think for one moment that this means I don't still think you're an idiot. You're the biggest idiot I've ever met, but you're _my _idiot. Never forget that._

_Love always, Arthur_

When Merlin raised his head, Arthur was startled to see his cheeks were glistening. He barely had time to inhale before his arms were full of an overemotional sorcerer and his own cheeks were damp with Merlin's tears as their lips crashed together in a spectacular tidal wave of overwhelming emotion. Arthur cradled Merlin against his chest as he carefully sank to the floor, wrapping his sorcerer up in his limbs and wiping away his tears. Merlin's eyes burned with something almost too fierce to comprehend. The same emotion flared in Arthur's heart, so intense that he feared it would burn him alive.

He took Merlin's face between his hands and kissed his forehead. After all the words that had already been exchanged, there was no need for anything but a sweet, tender embrace to carry them through the night. 


End file.
